


Bad Moon Blues

by SkinwalkerSkiddo



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Biting, Blood and Gore, Fluff, Knotting, M/M, Scars, Smut, Werewolves, werewolf!Daryl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkinwalkerSkiddo/pseuds/SkinwalkerSkiddo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Werewolf AU. Daryl is feral and Rick's sanity is in peril.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not entirely sure where this is going just yet and it may end up just being little ficlets but there will be some smut very soon so you have that to look forward too, haha. 
> 
> I've always liked the idea of werewolves that aren't outrageously super human. You won't see these guys leaping tall buildings in a single bound. And in this little world they can heal from some pretty horrific injuries that would certainly kill a human but enough damage from plan old bullets could take one out. Silver would definitely do the job faster. And then of course there are walker bites to consider so we'll see how that goes...
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

Michonne was the first werewolf Daryl had encountered since they lost Merle in Atlanta. 

 

She had come to them, carrying a sword and a basket of baby formula, half-dead from a festering gunshot wound in her leg and telling of Glenn and Maggie's abduction. 

 

Her eyes flashed with fury when she caught Daryl's scent and her lips curled back to bare white teeth at him with a loud growl. Rick slammed his open palm against the bench she was half-collapsed on and told her to cut it out before he found a muzzle. 

 

Daryl kept a close eye on her. She was more of a lone wolf than he had ever been, dark and silent and scowling, and he couldn't get a clear read on her. But she smelled like death, icy and sharp.  

 

She could be very bad news but for now she was mostly subdued by her injury and exhaustion so he wasn't too worried about her. Not while they needed her to help them track down Glenn and Maggie. 

 

Rick rallied his troops and they collected their weapons and a few supplies. He caught Daryl's eye as they finished loading the trunk of the car and Daryl gave their leader a swift nod. 

 

 _I got you're back._  

 

With nightfall, under the cover of a New Moon black sky, they came to the town of Woodbury. Michonne led them over an unguarded wall and they followed the sound of gunshots down into honest to God _dungeons_ where they found Glenn and Maggie. 

 

That's when Daryl had smelled _him_.

 

It had been so faint at first but it hit him like a brick wall and as he got an arm around Maggie to shove her on ahead through the dark hallways he looked back to search the clouds of smoke behind them. 

 

Rick was grabbing his wrist and pulling him back with the others. 

 

He felt a bullet flash passed his temple (and _fuck_ did that ever trigger some unpleasant memories) and gave in to following after his pack, still trying to pick that familiar scent out of the air full of gunpowder and smoke. 

 

They broke into a store, took stock of their situation, and realized they had lost Michonne somewhere along the way. 

 

While Rick swore and snarled at the betrayal Glenn told Daryl where his bloody face and busted ribs came from. Who they came from.

 

"It's Merle. He's _pack_! I gotta see him! M-maybe I can talk to him, work something out with this Governor—"

 

Rick's fingers dug into his nape to pull him close and the sensation made Daryl's heart and brain damn near shut down.

 

No one touched a werewolf's neck. 

 

Not unless they planned to try and rip it open. 

 

Or.

 

Unless they were bonded. 

 

Only _mates_ touched each other like that.

 

Rick knew that. He fucking _knew_ it, he had to after years of being a cop. Hell, he'd told Daryl about some of the calls he gone out on about werewolves picking fights over territory and mates or when they had just gone and gotten themselves moon drunk and started tearing shit apart.

 

Cops were trained early on that you kept your hands far away from a werewolf's throat if you had any interest in keeping your fingers. 

 

So the man damn well knew what he was doing but Daryl just couldn't figure out _why_. 

 

Rick stared him down, pale eyes bright and focused on nothing but him in this unsteady calm before the storm. 

 

He wanted to snarl, bare his teeth and jerk away but he couldn't because it was _Rick_.

 

So instead, he held that gaze. Not in a challenge but in need of an affirmation, of something to ground him. Daryl had become an alpha in this new world but Rick was still his equal, as equal as any human could ever be.  

 

"We need you, Daryl. Are you with us?"

 

He was reeling. The knowledge that his brother was alive and _here_ was making his guts churn, the stink of fear pouring off Glenn and Maggie and Oscar was clouding his senses, and Rick's fucking fingers were  _still touching his goddamn neck._

 

His stomach dropped when he realized just how badly he wanted to lean into that touch.

 

"I need you."

 

Daryl swallowed against the knot in his throat and nodded. 

 

And then they were off, diving head first into a night of fire that would ignite weeks filled with death and chaos.

 

Hours would pass before the heat of Rick's touch finally faded from Daryl's skin.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The fight to the death arena match for the Governor was nothing compared to the bloody brawl Daryl and Merle got into at the prison. 

 

The night after they got back was clear and warm with a full moon on the way.

 

Daryl was sitting on top of one of the picnic tables in the empty basketball court waiting for it. 

 

Werewolves could shift at will. It took practice and most didn't master it until they neared adulthood but something about the pull of the full moon made the transformation a requirement for all werewolves on nights when it filled the sky. A few studies had been done on the science behind it (back when people did such things instead of trying to eat each other's faces off) and countless theories abounded but no one really knew why. It was just the way things were and had been since the days lycanthropes hunted down mankind in their dark caves.  

 

Daryl kicked his boots off and stripped down to his pants to feel the cool breeze on his too hot skin. His bare toes drummed on the rough wood plank seat while he smoked a cigarette and waited for the moon to come up past the treeline. 

 

Rick had gone past a few minutes earlier to take watch in the main guard tower. Daryl had felt the weight of his gaze like a physical thing. 

 

He cursed under his breath and started on his third cigarette of the evening. Damn shame to waste them but he needed the distraction.

 

Hershel told Daryl why Rick had been outside the fence when he and Merle came back the previous day. Seeing things…Christ, poor bastard was long past his breaking point. 

 

And it made Daryl feel like shit because he couldn't stop thinking about that night in Woodbury. He could still feel Rick's heat, those calloused fingers on his skin. Rick probably hadn't even been aware of what he had been doing other than just making sure Daryl was with him, had his back. 

 

He always did. He always would. 

 

But Rick deserved better than a friend who had suddenly realized he would like nothing better than to _devour_ him.

 

With a mountain of shit piling up around them, in the midst of a war threatening to erupt, dumbass Daryl Dixon realized he was in love with his best friend. His grieving widower, on the edge of a mental breakdown, best friend. 

 

Oh but if he was being perfectly honest with himself this wasn't a recent revelation. It had been building for months but it was only now that he realized just how helplessly hopeless he really was. 

 

Daryl was _so_ fucked. 

 

He groaned and pressed the palms of his hands hard against his eye sockets.

 

A handful of the walkers out in the yard had taken notice of him and were clawing and biting at the fence, grinding their rotting faces into the hard wire. 

 

He had been looking forward to rolling in the grass of that lush field tonight. Sink his claws into the soft earth and just run and run and run until he got whatever this was out of his system and cleared his head. But then the Governor and his men drove a cube truck full of walkers through the gate. 

 

Asshole. 

 

The door to C-Block opened behind him with a sharp shriek of rusty metal. 

 

He hadn't been around Merle in months but Daryl knew it was him without looking or scenting the air. Very few had a gait like Merle's bravado-filled swagger. 

 

But then his brother stopped a few feet behind him and stood in silence. 

 

Looking at the scars on Daryl's bare back. 

 

Their daddy had been every stereotype of white trash, deep south feral lycanthrope rolled into one ill-tempered brute of a man. He spent his every waking moment drunk or drugged into a stupor (wolfsbane was worse than heroin for a werewolf and he had been hooked on the foul-smelling stuff), fucking whatever whore he could afford or sweet talk that week, or beating the absolute shit out of Merle and later, after he left, Daryl.

 

Rick hadn't stared. He'd seen them before, back at Herschel's farm but even then he hadn't looked too long, hadn't questioned Daryl about them later, never treated him like a broken thing as so many others had before. There had never been any watery pity in his eyes and Daryl had always been silently grateful for that.

 

Daryl stayed still and let his brother look for a few moments longer before breaking the silence.

 

"Talked them into letting you out, huh?" He teased without turning around to look at the older man. Daryl had been the one to convince Rick to unlock the cell and promised to keep an eye on his brother tonight.

 

His words seemed to snap Merle out of his thoughts. He laughed gruffly and closed the distance between them to slap Daryl's shoulder. 

 

"Yeah. Seems they weren't too keen on having a caged wolf in there with 'em. Afraid it'd give the little ones nightmares I 'spect." He smirked and set to work stripping off his shirts and belt. He left his jeans and boots on for the moment.  

 

Merle helped himself to the crumpled pack of cigarettes in Daryl's abandoned shirt pocket and lit one up before flopping onto the tabletop beside Daryl. They sat side by side in silence, breathing out long, slow lungfuls of smoke and watching the crowd of walkers in the yard mill about. 

 

Merle had removed the prosthetic contraption from his maimed arm and Daryl got his first look at the damage. 

 

Werewolves could heal from a multitude of horrific injuries, both men were living proof of that after lifetimes of abuse. But even a werewolf couldn't grow back a missing limb. 

 

His arm ended right where the knot of delicate wrist bones and tendons should have begun. In their place was a gruesome mess of angry white and red scar tissue. The flesh covering the end of the stump was shiny and stretched tight like taffy from where Merle had used a stovetop burner to cauterize the wound.

 

There were several jagged white scars crisscrossing his flesh just above the stump and Daryl's chest ached when he realized they had been false starts to the amputation. 

 

Merle let him look for a while before speaking. "It's a real bitch being a three-legged werewolf. But I tell ya what, baby brother, I can _still_ beat your sorry ass into the dust any day." 

 

Daryl's lips twitched in an aborted smile. "Yeah, we'll see how that goes."

 

They would both shift soon. Daryl's bones ached with a longing to stretch and reshape themselves but for now he enjoyed this rare peaceful moment with his brother. 

 

Who was apparently feeling the moon's fire in his blood tonight, same as Daryl but was more keen to act on it.

 

"Nothing but a flimsy chain length fence between us and a world full'a biters. Can't say as I see whatever it is _you_ see in this place." 

 

"It's home. My pack's here." 

 

Merle bristled and Daryl watched his jaws clench. Both of their tempers were about to get the better of them but Daryl wasn't ready to stop pushing just yet. 

 

"They're good people, man. You think that bunch of murderers and rapists back there was worth calling _pack?_ "

 

"Nah. But they was a hell of a lot more desirable than tryin'a make it on my own." He gave Daryl a dark look. 

 

Daryl recognized the bait dangling in front of him for what it was but he was in a bad mood and latched on to it anyway.

 

"You wouldn't'a been on your own if you had kept your damn mouth shut and not been such a dick back in Atlanta. C'mon Merle, let it go. We got a good thing here. Good people." 

 

Merle was a cobra, muscles coiling for a strike. 

 

But then he stilled and his lips pulled back to bare sharp, crooked teeth in a cruel smile. 

 

"Mmm. So my sweet little Dar'leena, how long you been swooning over Officer Friendly?"

 

Daryl's stomach dropped. 

 

"Shut up, Merle. Ain't like that."

 

"Come on now, pup. You never was any good at lying. And you know you can't tell me I'm smelling roses when what you're really shovelin' my way is a pile of horseshit. " 

 

With a bitter laugh Merle flicked the butt of his burnt out cigarette at Daryl's bare feet. A low growl rumbled in Daryl's chest and Merle answered it by baring his teeth again, this time with a snarl.

 

"I said it ain't like that, Merle. Rick's a good man so don't you go and try to start shit."

 

"I love ya, baby brother, but you're a little bitch, you know it? Gettin' down on your belly and raising your tail for that fuckin' pig? You already forget what he did to me?"

 

Daryl cursed and turned to face the older man. "Even if I _was_ sucking his dick every night of the week it still wouldn't be any of your damn business."

 

Merle broke Daryl's nose with a blow so hard and fast that it knocked him off balance and he hit the pavement with a pained groan. Hot blood poured down his mouth and chin. 

 

While Daryl reeled from the blow his brother finished disrobing and began to shift as the bright full moon peeked up over the treeline.  

 

Daryl clenched his sharpening teeth together to keep from crying out at the agony of the broken bones in his snout grinding together as he too began to change. 

 

After only a few moments of shifting bone and muscles, two massive wolves stood in place of the men that had previously occupied the basketball court. Both had brown coats tipped with back and silver (the largest one had quite a bit more silver than the other one, whose snout was bloody) and ill-concealed fury in their bright eyes.

 

The siblings proceeded to tear the shit out of each other with long white fangs and sharp black claws. 

 

In the past, Merle had always kicked his ass in these scuffles but Daryl was tired of having to roll over and bare his belly to the older male. 

 

Their slobbering barks and vicious snarls echoed off the concrete walls and the scent of spilled, coppery blood grew heavy in the air, stirring the walkers outside the fence into a frenzy.

 

Distantly Daryl registered someone shouting ( _human pack Rick not threat fight now_ ) but he was gaining the upperhand over Merle and he wasn't about to let that go. 

 

Muscles tensing under his silvery fur, Merle plowed into Daryl and tried push him down to the ground but with a rolling twist and a fast swipe of a massive paw Daryl knocked his brother's feet out from under him. 

 

He couldn't stop his thick dark tail from wagging as he pinned Merle down on his back.

 

The other male, bulkier body tense and obviously furious about this turn of events, still acknowledged the victor and leaned up just enough to lick at the blood coating Daryl's muzzle in submission.

 

A pair of dark amber eyes watching them from the shadows caught Daryl's attention. Michonne. He knew that scent but she shouldn't be here. She wasn't _pack_.  

 

Hackles rising, he bared his bloody teeth in a warning growl. But the sleek black wolf still crept closer, head held high in dominance as she neared the two males.

 

And then Daryl realized what she was up to. 

 

Michonne had a history with Merle. And she was still out for his blood.

 

Daryl's distraction was a careless opening for Merle to attack and his teeth sank into Daryl's foreleg. He howled and raked his claws across his brother's belly just as Michonne plowed into the both of them, her teeth snapping at Merle and opening up a deep wound on his flank that surprised a sharp yelp out of him.

 

An explosion of heat and sparks and too bright red flames suddenly erupted in the tangled midst of them. They scattered as Rick descended from the guard tower and scooped up the flare he had thrown. He waved it at them wildly, gesturing at the chain length fence and all of the corpses piling against it.

 

"Knock it the hell off before you make them _tear down the fucking fence!_ " 

 

He trotted towards the fence and flung the flare far out into the field, giving the walkers something new to go after. 

 

While his back was turned Merle crouched low and crept up behind Rick. Daryl and Michonne both started to go after him but Rick was quick to spin around and he aimed his AK at the massive, bloodied wolf. His finger was steady on the trigger.

 

"Back off, Merle."

 

Daryl couldn't take his eyes off Rick. 

 

Even a wolf can appreciate beauty and right then, Rick was fucking _gorgeous_.

 

His eyes shone bright and fierce in the pale light of the moon and he was advancing on Merle now, making the wolf take a few steps backward to avoid a face full of the assault rifle's barrel.

 

Daryl had never been around a human that didn't stink of fear while anywhere near a werewolf on a full moon. But over the musk of two other wolves, a field full of corpses, and the smoke and phosphorous of the flare all he could smell was alpha male confidence and it was absolutely mouth-watering.

 

The wolf part of Daryl's mind was overtaken with an all-consuming possessive _need_. 

 

And the human part was in complete agreement.

 

Daryl was oh so _very_ fucked.

 

~

 

Daryl woke around ten the next morning with the fuzzy hangover that always accompanied a full moon shift. He ached from head to toe from a plethora of bites, claw marks, and a half-healed broken nose. They would all be healed in a few more hours but damn was he sore right now.

 

Not quite ready to open his eyes yet he groaned and buried his head under his musty pillow. 

 

The rest of their night had been spent in the back of the exercise yard—out of sight of the fence—where they licked their wounds and got into smaller tussles over a pile of bones and offal from a deer Daryl had shot that morning. 

 

Daryl formed an unsteady truce with Michonne but Merle was hot-headed bastard to both of them until dawn, biting and growling viciously any time either Daryl or Michonne strayed too close to the corner of the yard he'd staked a claim on.

 

Someone cleared their throat softly and Daryl snapped his eyes open to see Rick standing in the doorway of his cell. He had Judith tucked in the crook of one arm and a tray with two plates of food in his free hand. 

 

Rick nodded to the plates. "Figured you'd be starving. Alright if I, uh, _we_ join ya?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, just gimme a sec." Suddenly painfully aware of just how filthy and naked he was Daryl pulled on his poncho and made sure it and the blanket were covering all the important bits. 

 

Once given the all clear Rick handed him a plate and took a seat in an old office chair beside the bunk. They ate in silence for a while, Rick tempting Judith with tiny bites of oatmeal and Daryl watching them fondly through stolen glances. 

 

Rick had dark circles under his eyes and looked too pale but he seemed more peaceful than Daryl had seen him in ages.

 

After a while, Rick met his gaze.

 

"How's that?" He asked, nodding at Daryl's battered nose. 

 

"s'fine. Sorry about all that last night."

 

Rick shrugged and winced when Judith pinched at his arm hair with chubby exploring fingers. He decided it best not to mention that he had heard the exchange between Daryl and Merle leading up to that blow. 

 

"Forget about it. I know how he is and ya throw Michonne into the mix and you're bound to get an explosion."

 

Daryl smirked and nodded. They were quiet a while longer before he spoke again, watching Rick from under too long dark hair.

 

"You good, Rick?" 

 

Rick heaved a long, heavy sigh. He leaned down and kissed the crown of Judith's head before nodding. 

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. And she is too, thanks to you." 

 

Daryl flushed and cleared his throat. "Like I said man, s'what we do." 

 

Rick leaned forward just enough to pat Daryl's leg through the blankets. After a parting squeeze just above his knee that made Daryl's stomach flip Rick's chair groaned as he settled back to finish his late breakfast. Daryl followed his example and picked at the remaining scraps of venison on his plate (raw he noted with a pleased smile; he'd have to remember to thank Carol) with his fingers before popping them into his mouth.

 

"Anyway, I'm surprised your brother didn't wake you up already. He's been ranting and raving all morning." Rick said between mouthfuls. 

 

He acted like he was trying his damnedest not to smile about something.

 

"That's Merle for ya." Daryl felt his chest swell with pride at the memory of winning (even briefly) a fight with his brother. First time he'd ever managed that victory and it was certainly worth having to deal with an even more crotchety-than-normal Merle. 

 

"Yeah well he's in an even _better_ mood than usual."

 

Daryl raised an eyebrow and Rick finally broke down and grinned, still trying his hardest not to laugh.

 

 "When ya'll were fighting last night Michonne bit him on the ass and he _still_ can't sit down."   

 

Daryl barked out a laugh, nearly choking on his food in the process and both men tried their best to quiet their snickering laughter. 

 

They weren't very successful. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I doubt if it's very noticeable but in my mind at least I've stretched out season three a bit. So Rick's had a little more time to get his feet back under him again, poor dude. 
> 
> Getting closer to the smut! I'll try to have the next chapter up before Sunday. Hope you enjoyed it and thank you all so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here comes that explicit rating! Enjoy!

 

"Christ Daryl, you're like sitting next to a furnace." 

 

He snorted and leaned closer to tease. "High metabolism."  

 

His playfulness backfired and Rick leaned in to rest his shoulder against Daryl's. The night air was surprisingly warm for this time of year but there was still a chilly nip to the breeze and apparently Rick was not planning on letting any extra heat go to waste.

 

"S'nice."

 

Rick was trashed. Daryl could smell the alcohol on his breath—in his _blood_ —and if he would just stop hogging the damn bottle then Daryl could get a little closer to that same care-free stupor.

 

It was sloppy and irresponsible to get shit-faced in this world. But Glenn and Michonne were on watch and they didn't have any supply runs planned for the next day. They had enough food and other necessities to last a little while, Carl was curled up with a new stack of comic books, and Carol called dibs on Lil' Asskicker for the night.

 

So fuck it all, they had earned this little break.

 

They were partaking of a nice cache of booze that they had found back in Woodbury when they finished clearing it out a couple of months ago. And this was the _real_ good stuff, pulled right from the Governor's own personal stash.

 

Daryl and Michonne had taken great delight in shifting and absolutely destroying the madman's apartment on their final supply run to Woodbury. Claws and teeth shredded useless journals and clothing and furniture but then Daryl had sniffed out the alcohol tucked away behind a false backing inside a tall antique oak cabinet and he hadn't been too keen on letting that go to waste. 

 

He took a slow swallow, enjoying the warmth of the amber liquid as it settled in his belly. 

 

Only thing that would have tasted better would have been a mouthful of that eyepatch-wearing bastard's blood as he ripped his throat out. But try as he and Michonne might, they hadn't been able to pick up his trail. 

 

Michonne hadn't given up yet and Daryl was still pushed on by the duty he felt to Andrea, to _his brother_ , to find that asshole and gut him. 

 

But Daryl was beginning to grow weary of chasing ghosts.  

 

As badly as he ached for revenge he was beginning to feel pulled more to the prison than towards any sort of retribution. He had a duty here, to these people. To his pack. 

 

To Rick.

 

He tipped his head far back to take another long pull on the bottle of whiskey and Rick snickered too loudly.

 

"Hey you're supposed to savor that. S'old or something."

 

Daryl drained a good third of the bottle before setting it back down and knocking aside the empty bottles they had already demolished (and by they he meant him; he _did_ have a high metabolism after all). He belched and smirked smugly as the sound echoed off the walls around them.

 

"I am."  

 

Rick actually fucking giggled and leaned right in so they were pressed tight from shoulder to thigh, their feet dangling off the edge of the rooftop.

 

Daryl fidgeted uncomfortably at the contact but Rick wouldn't move and hell, it did feel kinda nice. Wasn't like it was the first time they had sat like this either. Many was the night last winter that saw them staying up until dawn and keeping watch while the others slept.

 

Those were some of Daryl's only fond memories from the winter they spent on the road.

 

But it was a different night that Daryl couldn't stop thinking about these days. That first night they snuck into Woodbury kept drifting through his mind.

 

Christ it was ridiculous and he was _obsessing_ but he could still feel Rick's fingers on the nape of his neck. The heat of them, his scent so close.

 

He took another swig of the bottle and dug around his pocket until he found his smokes and some matches. 

 

Rick groaned and slid off Daryl's shoulder to sprawl out on his back across the rooftop beside him. 

 

"How can you stand those? Especially with that 'superhuman' nose of yours?" He really did air quotations and the worst thing about that was how damn endearing Daryl found it.

 

Daryl shrugged and took a long drag on the half crumpled cigarette. "Grew up around 'em, started stealing 'em from Merle and our daddy when I was nine. Just a habit I guess."

 

" _Bad_ habit." 

 

"Never heard of no werewolf getting cancer. 'Sides, sort of the least of our worries around here." 

 

He rumbled in reluctant agreement and Daryl watched him out of the corner of his eye as Rick scooped up the bottle and took another swallow of the whiskey. After that he stretched out on the rooftop again, pillowing his head on one arm while draping his fingers loosely around the neck of the bottle and staring thoughtfully up at the sky above them.

 

Daryl was doing his best to not stare at the few inches of exposed skin over Rick's hip bone where his shirt had ridden up.

 

"Think things are gonna work out alright with these new folks? All of us here under one roof, more or less?"

 

Daryl sighed and eased himself down so he was stretched out on his back next to Rick. He wished they'd brought more than an old wool blanket to lay on top of the rough concrete of the rooftop. "So far so good."

 

"How's things with Michonne?"

 

Arching an eyebrow, Daryl rolled his head so he could look at Rick. Who it seemed was avoiding his gaze and staring up at the moonless night sky above them.  

 

"Fine. She likes it here." 

 

Daryl watched Rick as he wrapped his chapped lips around the mouth of the bottle again, sitting up just enough to drink without choking. He tipped his head back, exposing his throat which flexed as he swallowed, and Daryl didn't even try to pull his gaze away from that sight. 

 

"You two going out to hunt again soon?"

 

Daryl shrugged. "Not sure yet. We ain't picked up a hint of a scent in weeks so we've just been chasing our tails out there. She'll probably go out again in a day or two but I was thinkin' I might stick around for a while."

 

Rick licked his lips and nodded. He was quiet for a few moments before speaking again.

 

"I've watched you two, ya know. Out in the yard after everyone's gone to sleep a lot'a nights, chasin' each other around like a couple of overgrown puppies." 

 

Daryl scrunched his nose up at the comparison—like hell he was going to miss out on the opportunity to rough house with someone his own size after all—but his stomach did a strange little flippity thing when Rick's scent changed ever so slightly. 

 

It wasn't the first time he'd noticed this particular scent on him but for once he had time and was close enough to investigate it.

 

Jealousy. Smelled like green apples and summer storms and something else and for some reason it made heat curl low in his belly.

 

Rick was possessive of him. Hell he knew that, he was pretty damn possessive and maybe just a touch over-protective of the other man too but it wasn't just that. Daryl was still missing something.

 

His nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath and _there_ , that's it. 

 

Heat. Male. Sexneedwant _mine._  

 

_Lust_.

 

Rick wanted him.

 

"So I just figured you two'd, ya know, become mates or whatever." 

 

"That what you thought, huh?" He turned over so he was laying on his side, facing Rick and breathing him in, trying to calm the frantic pounding of his own pulse as he reeled from the wall of pheromones he had just plowed face first into. 

 

"Pretty damn obvious. I ain't blind, Daryl." 

 

Daryl licked his lips. His belly full of far too much good whiskey was giving him false courage and he knew it but he was still drunk enough to keep pushing.

 

"Yeah you are."

 

And now that he had a lungful of the lust coming off Rick his blood was growing hot. Oh Christ, how many nights had he fucked up into his own fist while biting Rick's name into his arm to keep quiet as he came. That ache, that _need_ was bone deep but he never expected anything to ever come of it. 

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"Michonne ain't looking for a mate, Rick."

 

Rick's head was slow and fuzzy but once that sank in his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak only to have Daryl cut him off. 

 

He had taken the plunge, now to keep swimming.

 

"And I ain't either."

 

Rick adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly and Daryl's chest ached at the look of despair that darkened his features. 

 

The bravado born of alcohol suddenly left him and he was feeling glaringly sober. And a little sick to his stomach at just what he was about to say next. Fuck, he was doing this all wrong.

 

"Well, uh, good. That's good to know. Last thing we need around here is two werewolves going into heat."

 

Daryl watched the other man, nervous and unsure of how to proceed but drawn to Rick's heat and the temptation to see where this all might lead.

 

"Thing is, I ain't looking because I already found one. If he'll have me." 

 

Silence. Then—

 

"What?"

 

Shit, shit, shit. He'd read it wrong, fucked it up, oh God he was _too-drunk-not-drunk-enough_ for this.

 

And then Rick leaned up, reached out and warm calloused fingers were on Daryl's neck again, just like that night back in Woodbury. Only this was better. This was _right_ and it made the heat in Daryl's belly spread out through his limbs like sinking into a hot bath. 

 

Rick's thumb stroked against his adam's apple and Daryl swallowed reflexively. 

 

"C'mere."

 

Daryl shifted closer, shuddering at the sound of Rick's heartbeat so near, but making no further move before catching Rick's gaze. 

 

"You sure about this?"

 

"I know we're both drunk but I ain't gonna regret nothing in the morning, Daryl. Been wanting this for too long to have any regrets."

 

Daryl nodded but still hesitated. Christ he'd been wanting this for so long and here he was trying to throw out road blocks. But this was Rick. He had always been honest with the man and that wasn't about to change.

 

"I can't—werewolves mate for life, Rick. This can't be just about a fuck." 

 

A heartbreakingly tender smile curved the other man's lips and he leaned forward to press his forehead against Daryl's. 

 

"I know."

 

He shuddered when Rick pressed his thumb against the thudding pulse in his carotid. 

 

"Now _come_ _here_."

 

Daryl gave in. 

 

Their first kiss was embarrassingly sloppy but what they lacked in sober coordination they more than made up for in enthusiasm. 

 

Daryl pushed his tongue into Rick's mouth to taste and Rick just opened wider for him. 

 

They damn near _devoured_ each other.

 

Rick clawed his fingers up under Daryl's poncho to yank it over his head (it got stuck and they both just sat there and laughed for a minute) and shoved his leather vest down off his shoulders. Daryl sleeveless button up was all that remained and Rick damn near ripped it off of him. 

 

Daryl hissed at the cold fingers on his too hot skin.

 

Rick snickered and nipped at the scruff on his chin, muttering a breathy _sorry_ and sounding anything but.

 

Rick chanted his name while Daryl began yanking at the buttons of his shirt. Once he got them all open he didn't give the other man a chance to lean up and shuck it off his arms, but instead he pushed him back down to lay flat while he sucked hard, biting kisses into Rick's chest. 

 

His nostrils were full of Rick and their combined arousal and all he could think was _mine_ and _more_. 

 

He pressed his nose against Rick's armpit, inhaling his stronger scent there and groaning obscenely at just how good Rick's natural musk smelled.

 

Christ that was a whole 'nother kind of intoxication. 

 

He bit at Rick's bared deltoid and then soothed at the red mark with a lapping tongue and soft kisses that trailed down to the small fold of skin where arm met chest. In a moment of playfulness he wriggled his tongue into that crease and grinned at Rick's surprised yelp of laughter. 

 

"Guess I smell good?" Rick snickered.

 

Daryl growled and ducked his head to suck at a nipple. " _Fuck_ _yes_." 

 

Rick groaned too loudly under him, grinding his hips up against Daryl's and arching his neck back to bare his throat.

 

A groan of his own that was definitely not in actuality a breathless, desperate _whine_ slipped past Daryl's lips at the sight.

 

Daryl buried his nose against that tender flesh and breathed his mate in. 

 

Growing impatient, Rick's fingers made fast work of Daryl's belt buckle and the fastening on his pants. He shoved them and his underwear down just far enough to free his swelling cock and Rick's forehead clipped Daryl's chin painfully as he tried to look down. 

 

"That's your uh, your knot, right?" 

 

He could feel the heat of Rick's flush against his own too-hot skin and he nodded, groaning as Rick wrapped a hand around his cock. 

 

Rick's fingers explored him. He stroked over glans slick with precome, teased a fingernail gently along a thick vein, and finally rubbed his thumb and forefinger over the heavy swelling of his slowly filling knot near the base.

 

Daryl moaned as he tried his best not to rut into that teasing grasp. Rick flashed him a horribly devilish smile.

 

"I want that in me. Not tonight—got no supplies up here and that's gonna take a _hell_ of a lot of lube—but soon. Very, very soon. Deal?"

 

Daryl gaped unbelievingly at him and Rick just grinned, capturing his mouth in another biting kiss as he unhooked his own belt and dealt with the button and zipper of his jeans, pushing them down. 

 

Shifting his hips so their cocks lined up, he grabbed Daryl's wrist and licked a sloppy wet line across his palm before guiding it down to wrap around the both of them. 

 

"C'mon." 

 

Regaining a little of his control, Daryl smirked darkly and leaned in to nip his way along Rick's throat and jaw. He pressed his thumb hard against the slit in Rick's cock and purred at the sharp curse that spilled from his lips. 

 

He caught Rick's swollen lips in another kiss as he finally began to move his fist over their precome and saliva-slick dicks. Slowly at first but quickly building a faster rhythm as Rick rocked his hips up to meet him and panted harshly into Daryl's mouth, babbling _fuck_ and _yes_ and _Daryl_ between breathless, biting kisses.

 

His teeth ached to sink deep into Rick's flesh, to mark him as his mate but he restrained himself for now, settling for just pressing his open mouth against Rick's sweaty neck and panting against his skin. 

 

He would make that claim when he knotted him.

 

Rick surged up against him, eyes squeezed shut tight and spine bowing back as he came with choked off cry. The wet heat of it across Daryl's fist and the look of blissful agony on Rick's face was more than enough to send Daryl crashing into his own orgasm with a shuddering sob he muffled against Rick's chest. 

 

While they caught their breath Daryl lapped at the sweat that had collected along Rick's collarbones and neck. A deep purring rumble of contentment vibrated in his throat and Rick chuckled, pulling him in for a lazy kiss.

 

A fierce possessiveness bloomed in Daryl's chest. 

 

His own scent was smeared all over Rick and the combination of the two was the best damn thing he had ever smelled. Heat and spice and _home_. 

 

Mate. Mine.

 

Still sprawled out heavily over Rick's panting form, Daryl untangled his hand from between them and brought it up to his mouth to lap at their combined come on his fingers. 

 

He hadn't intended it as a seduction but Rick's breathless moan at the sight gave him ideas. 

 

Moving slowly to give Rick a chance to say no, Daryl stroked the remaining spent on his fingers across Rick's parted lips before devouring them in a filthy kiss. And if the way Rick clawed his fingers into his hair and chased the taste of himself and Daryl with his tongue was any indication, he seemed to be just fine with the idea.

 

Once they broke apart, both glassy eyed and syrupy with too much whiskey and barely-sated lust, Daryl leaned low and began kissing and sucking his way down Rick's bare chest and belly. He scraped his teeth around Rick's navel before dipping his tongue into it, grinning when the ticklish sensation surprised a laugh out of Rick.

 

He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of Rick's still undone jeans and pulled them and his underwear down to about his mid-thigh. He nosed his way down through the trail of hair on his lower belly down to the dark curls around his cock. Rick shuddered under him.

 

"Just a reminder that not only am I not as young as I used to be but I am also drunk. So don't get your hopes up. Y'know, about anything _else_ getting up." Rick snickered and tangled his fingers in Daryl's hair again, spreading his legs as wide as they could go while still confined by his jeans.

 

Daryl smirked, settling himself between Rick's legs and dipping his head lower.

 

He had a little taste and now he wanted more. 

 

The heady musk of Rick's renewed arousal was more intoxicating than any alcohol and Daryl was certainly drunk on the scent of his new mate. He nuzzled gently at his spent cock and Rick hissed softly at the stimulation but Daryl wasn't deterred. He stroked the length with lazy, tender laps of his tongue for a long while until he could feel the blood begin to pump into it again with each thud of Rick's pulse.

 

Rick writhed sinfully under him as he engulfed his half hard dick within the heat of his mouth.

 

"Fuck, Daryl. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_."

 

Rick was soon a trembling wreck beneath him, flanks twitching with the effort to not thrust up into that wet heat and Daryl just grinned at him before swallowing him down again, feeling pretty damn cocky over the sharp cry that slipped past Rick's lips. 

 

He set a steady pace, bobbing his head and alternating between hard sucks and long teasing laps of his tongue.

 

Daryl was pretty fucking sure he could come just from listening to the desperate sounds Rick was making. He reached down with his free hand to grind his own erection against his palm for a little relief. 

 

Rick saw him and attempted to reach out to lend a hand but Daryl just pinned him back down with an arm across his hips, growling possessively around the thick length cradled in his jaws and making Rick moan.

 

"Oh _fuck_ that's hot. Do it again."

 

Daryl chuckled and purred, the rumbling vibration of it making Rick shudder and moan even louder. He would have grinned if his mouth hadn't been otherwise occupied.

 

Releasing his hold on Rick's hips, Daryl skimmed his fingers down along his thighs and then back up while he sucked his dick. Warm fingers tugged gently at Rick's balls and a thumb stroked down the crease of his sac, trailing down and back to press at his perineum. Rick's cock twitched in his mouth at the added stimulation and he let it slide further down his throat, holding it there for a moment.

 

His eyes nearly rolled back far enough to see the back of his own skull when Rick curled his fingers around his throat, feeling himself held there. Even after Daryl pulled back to breathe, mouthing and suckling sweetly at the flushed head, Rick kept his hand on his neck. He stroked the hot skin there with firm rubs of his fingertips and then teasing caresses with his nails that had Daryl moaning obscenely around his dick.

 

Daryl had to release his cock for a moment, letting it slap wetly against Rick's belly so he could catch his breath. He rolled his hips, thrusting into his own fist with a choked off groan he smothered against Rick's hip.

 

Fucking erogenous zones getting him all distracted. But _oh Christ_ did that feel good. 

 

Rick seemed to take notice and he re-doubled his efforts, dragging his fingertips up the nape of Daryl's neck slowly before scraping his nails back down again. 

 

" _Shit_." Daryl hissed, pumping his fist faster over his own dick and amazed that he was actually about to come from this. 

 

Then Rick leaned up and sank his teeth over his pounding pulse in a sharp, biting kiss. 

 

Daryl cried out harshly as he came for the second time that night, come spilling over his fist and onto Rick's jeans. 

 

He only took a moment to catch his breath, rolling his eyes at the _very_ self-satisfied smirk Rick directed his way, before pulling Rick's cock back into his mouth again. He bobbed his head and squeezed Rick's hip with one hand while he brought the other up to slide his fingers through some of the saliva that escaped the seal of his lips. 

 

The next time he worked Rick deep into his throat he pressed a slick finger against Rick's hole, slipping in to nearly the second knuckle and Rick was done for.

 

Daryl swallowed him down, savoring his unique flavor and the bitter tang of it on his tongue. 

 

_Mate. Mine._

 

He rubbed the smear of his come that landed on Rick's jeans into the denim despite Rick's groan of protest. A primal marking of his mate that made him want to puff his chest out with pride.

 

_My mate._

 

Both men sprawled bonelessly across the blanket and in Daryl's case, back on top of Rick.

 

Rick reached up to stroke some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes. He touched Daryl's red, swollen lips with his fingertips. 

 

"You look obscene." 

 

He snorted a laugh and rubbed his damp face against Rick's chest, heaving a heavy sigh of contentment. "Worth it."

 

Rick smirked up at him. "You're more of an overgrown tom cat than a big bad wolf, you know it?" 

 

Daryl glared and bit down none too gently on a nipple peaked with chill. Rick cursed and swatted at him but Daryl was quick to soothe the hurt with a hot tongue and a slow grind of his hips.

 

"Oh Christ, you're ready to go _again_ , aren't you? What have I gotten myself into?"

 

A low rumble vibrated in Daryl chest and he pressed a few kisses against Rick's sweaty skin. "I accept rainchecks."

 

Rick laughed and reached out to snag the whiskey bottle, taking a long swallow then offering it to Daryl who did the same. "Damn good thing."

 

He probably could have fallen asleep right then and there, fuzzy from alcohol and a fucking fantastic fuck and content in the knowledge that his new mate was safe by his side and smelled like him but then his human cushion started trembling beneath him. In silent laughter.

 

"What the hell?"

 

Rick grinned and scrubbed his sticky fingers up through Daryl's hair, startling an annoyed growl out of him. "That was good. Really, _really_ good."

 

Daryl hummed smugly and sprawled out even further over Rick's prone form, breathing in _their_ scent. "It gets better too." 

 

Rick chuckled through a yawn and tangled their legs together. Daryl help right their clothing a bit and after he laid his poncho out over both of them they soon drifted off to sleep. 

 

The temperature took a nose dive during the night and Daryl woke to Rick shivering under him. He considered rousing the other man ( _matemate **mine**_ his wolf brain reminded him proudly) and herding him back to their cell block but he decided on an alternative solution .

 

So when Rick woke a few hours later with an achey head and in serious need of a shower and some clean clothes he found himself wrapped up tight in an enormous furry pile of werewolf Daryl. 

 

Rick grinned despite the bright dawn sunlight cutting into his head and reached out to stroke his fingers through the dark, thick fur along the nape of the wolf's neck. Daryl rumbled in his sleep and pressed his very cold and very wet nose in against Rick's throat. 

 

He tried to squirm away from the ticklish sensation but huge paws around his waist locked him in place. So with a heavy sigh and a fond smile he leaned his head against the wolf's massive skull and drifted back to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo. How do you guys feel about knotting? Because that's a thing. A thing that will very likely happen very soon in this fic. 
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for reading and for your wonderful comments! They mean a lot to me and I really appreciate it!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading!


	4. Chapter 4

 

It was very late the next morning before Rick was finally able to untangle himself from the heavy, clinging limbs of the wolf he had woken up with. Every time he tried to pull away Daryl would lay more of his considerable weight on him and press his wet nose in against any bare skin he could find with a low whine. 

 

Apparently the wolf liked to cuddle.

 

"Daryl, we gotta get up." 

 

The wolf nipped at the ragged leather of Rick's unbuckled belt in protest and burrowed his snout up under the hem of Rick's shirt. He kept rooting around until his entire massive head was resting on Rick's torso. The shirt's buttons strained as they stretched tight over him and the fabric pressed his ears flat against his skull.

 

Rick laughed at Daryl's whiskers tickling his ribs and he sank his fingers into thick, dark fur.

 

"So you're hungover too, huh?" 

 

A burst of hot, wet breath blew out over his chest as Daryl huffed a sigh. Tilting his head to the side, the wolf began rubbing the scent glands on his jaw over Rick's bare skin.

 

His instincts were screaming at him to _sleep_ and _rut_ and _bond_ with his new mate. _Bite him, mark him, breed him, claim him._  

 

And as badly as he wanted to spend all day doing nothing but fucking and being fucked he knew they still had responsibilities. 

 

They were alphas with pups and a large pack to tend to.

 

But Daryl was going to make damn sure his scent was smeared so thick over Rick before they left their little rooftop retreat that even the others with their dull human noses could smell their pair-bond.

 

_Mate. My mate._  

 

Even after he pulled himself out from Rick's shirt Daryl kept rubbing his throat and muzzle against Rick, who laid still and let him work with a very fond and rather amused expression. He watched him with soft, hooded eyes.

 

Rick murmured quiet nonsense and tucked his nose against Daryl's neck to breathe in the rich, earthy scent of him. The wolf's chest vibrated with a content, purring rumble. 

 

"Those pheromones of yours are making me feel like I've been drugged. S'kinda nice." A thick tail thumped happily against Rick's shins and he rolled his eyes. 

 

"C'mon, you gotta cut it out though. We really need to get up. Need to check on the kids and we've got chores to do." He sighed into the wolf's neck, rubbing his fingers over one of the rough scars half-hidden under the dark fur along Daryl's shoulders. 

 

Daryl grunted but raised up off Rick's prone form and stepped away. His claws clicked on the rooftop as he walked back to his pile of clothes and crossbow. 

 

The change was at once gruesome and strangely beautiful. Shifting muscles and bones reformed themselves from wolf to man in only a few moments, leaving Daryl standing in the wolf's place. A fine tremor of the remaining adrenaline running through his system made him shudder. 

 

Despite the heat his body radiated goosebumps still broke out over his bare skin when the cold morning air hit him. Daryl cursed and crouched to collect his clothes. 

 

Rick cleared his throat. "That hurt?"

 

Daryl shrugged as he pulled his pants on. "Not really. Feels kinda like taking off clothes that are too tight. Or stretching out a bad cramp or somethin'." 

 

He caught Rick's heated gaze as he was untangling his vest from his poncho and smirked at the other man's unashamed leering. 

 

Not breaking eye contact, Rick got his feet under him and made his way to stand before Daryl. He slipped a hand past the waistband of his still undone pants to curve around a bare hip and pulled Daryl in for a slow, deep kiss. 

 

After a long moment Rick pulled back with a parting bite to Daryl's lower lip. "What we did last night? We are definitely doing more of that tonight."

 

A low, growling purr rumbled out of Daryl's chest and he smirked at the groan that stuttered past Rick's lips as he groped at his ass, sliding past leather and denim to tease warm skin. 

 

"Hmm, maybe sooner than tonight. But on a mattress this time. My back is killing me."

 

"You wait here 'n I'll bring one up. Then we'll be good to go." He dug his nails into the meat of Rick's ass cheek and bit at his bearded jaw. He grinned against Rick's throat at the sound of pleasure that came out of it.

 

"S'tempting. You have no idea how fucking tempting." He pressed his forehead against Daryl's and smiled. 

 

With a parting kiss Rick stepped back and scooped up Daryl's shirts and poncho. Daryl reached out to take them but Rick just smirked and started rubbing the clothing against his neck, chest, and arms. At Daryl's questioning look he licked his lips.

 

"If I'm gonna smell like you then you are sure as hell gonna smell like me too. You aren't the only possessive one in this relationship." 

 

"I'm yours and you are _mine_ , Daryl Dixon." Rick grinned and Daryl's heart did a stupid little flippity thing as he was pulled in for another kiss.

 

 

\---

 

 

Daryl skipped breakfast and spent the rest of the morning with Sasha and Glenn going over maps and old yellow page directories for local businesses to plan out a supply run for later in the week. Batteries, fuel, tools, and fencing materials were high on their priority list so they had a couple of salvage yards and hardware stores picked out to hunt through.

 

He was fighting a losing battle trying to keep his thoughts on the job at hand. A pounding headache that had slowly been building all morning had his head throbbing and a flush that started at the back of his neck and quickly spread through his blood was making him feel feverish. 

 

He'd had a hell of a lot to drink last night on the roof with Rick but it still usually took a lot more than that to leave him feeling so shitty. 

 

Damn apocalypse had turned him into a lightweight. 

 

He was mostly useless in the route-planning and left the nitty gritty details of it to Sasha and Glenn. They were both pretty damn smart when it came to all that stuff anyway. 

 

Neither of them were very good at being subtle though. They kept giving him odd looks and crinkling their noses as they tried to take covert sniffs of the air near Daryl when they thought he wouldn't notice. 

 

What the hell was _that_ about anyway? Must be picking up on those pheromones Rick had mentioned earlier was the only thing he could figure.

 

After the fourth or fifth time they did it he snapped. 

 

"We done here? I gotta take a piss." He growled, glaring at both of them. 

 

Sasha started but was fast to recover. "Uh yeah, I guess so. We'll head out at dawn the day after tomorrow, alright?"

 

"Sounds peachy." He stood, shoving his chair against the table as he stomped towards the door. Until a hand touched his arm.

 

"Hey, Daryl?"

 

Glenn apparently had a death wish today.

 

" _What._ " 

 

It was a testament to how well they knew him that neither Glenn nor Sasha jumped at his gruff bark. Either that or he was losing his touch.

 

"Nothing. Just, ah. You okay? You don't look so good and uh, you _smell_ different." 

 

"New soap," he grumbled over his shoulder as he stalked down the hallway.

 

 

\---

 

 

Daryl was scheduled for watch late that afternoon for a few hours. His mood had gotten progressively worse as the day drew on, leading him to snap at anyone that came too close but he was actually looking forward to his shift in the guard tower. Just that one last thing before he could drag Rick off to his cell or better yet down to the generator room where they could have some honest to God _privacy_. 

 

With a half hour or so to go before his shift he sat out under the half-finished pavilion they were building in the exercise yard. Carol had come by with a bowl of venison stew for him a few minutes earlier. She had gotten pretty good at reading his moods so she let him be, no joking or teasing today and instead finished cleaning up the cooking space before ushering the kids back inside for story time and leaving Daryl alone in the yard. 

 

His nostrils flared as Rick's scent drifted through the air. He suppressed a shudder and turned to watch as Rick and Carl headed back down to the garden to finish up their work for the day. 

 

The father and son— _my mate and my pup_ the wolf rumbled proudly—were loaded down with tools and buckets and they were both laughing happily, the sound carrying high and clear over the background noise of the ever-present crowd of walkers outside the fence. 

 

Rick caught sight of Daryl as they walked through the gate to the field. He grinned brightly and nodded, his arms too full of supplies to wave. 

 

Daryl returned the grin and the nod.

 

He watched Rick's hips roll with their easy cowboy swagger as he walked down the low incline to the field and garden. Rick's first stop was the small paddock next to the shed they built for Michonne's horse. He carried a bucket of feed out to their newest farm yard addition: the pig.  

 

Daryl had found the animal a couple of weeks ago while out hunting. His first inclination had been to put an arrow through it but something about its scent made him stop. And when he finally hossed the stubborn thing back to the prison—it squealing and screaming nonstop and calling up a line of walkers to shuffle along behind them like the damn Pied Piper— Hershel had confirmed his suspicions. The massive old sow was pregnant.

 

Hogs breed faster than rabbits so with a little luck they would be up to their eyeballs in bacon soon. 

 

Rick had been over the moon and took charge of caring for the sow himself.

 

Daryl gnawed on the inside of his cheek to keep the smile off his face.

 

Bringing gifts of meat to a potential mate was a timeless romantic gesture for werewolves. 

 

Another scent caught his attention and reminded him that he was in a very bad mood and not interested in socializing—with anyone other than Rick at least. He chewed on a too-large mouthful of stew so he wouldn't have to greet Michonne as she sidled up next to him. She just grinned and flopped down on the bench beside him, setting her own bowl of stew and her leather saddlebag down on the table.

 

" _Finally_ ," she sighed in over-dramatic relief.

 

Daryl narrowed his eyes and Michonne chuckled.

 

"I was wondering when you two were going to jump each others' bones. Long overdue if you ask me."

 

Daryl groaned, reaching up to rub at his aching head. 

 

Despite the pain behind his eyes he couldn't help but smirk. He glanced at Michonne from the corner of his eye. "That obvious, huh?"

 

She snorted around a mouthful of food and swatted at his shoulder. "Hah. _Hah_. Of course it is you smug mutt. I honestly don't see how anyone _couldn't_ smell you on each other. From a mile away."  

 

He wouldn't have let Rick out of his sight any other way.

 

And apparently Rick was just as territorial as him. He tucked his nose against his shoulder and breathed in the warm, comforting scent of his mate in the fabric of his horse blanket poncho. Michonne rolled her eyes with a groan. 

 

"Lovesick puppy is what you are."

 

Daryl grumbled and picked at his stew. He was not looking forward to some of the conversations that would be coming his way soon. He had avoided them so far but he knew his luck wouldn't hold forever. These people had become his pack. He had and would continue to kill to keep them safe but they did have a hell of a knack for sticking their damn noses where they didn't belong.

 

"So. Did you knot him?" 

 

And here was one of those conversations right now.

 

"Fuck off, that _really_ ain't none of your business."

 

"Oh I'll take that as a no then. Poor puppy, no wonder you've been walking around all day like you got a kink in your tail."

 

Daryl growled and Michonne bared her sharp white teeth at him with a grin. 

 

They had a brief stare down before Daryl relented and looked away with a dramatic huff. He felt like shit and all he wanted to do was curl up somewhere private and cozy with his mate. Last thing he wanted was to get in a tussle with Michonne right now.

 

She was just as much an alpha as he was. And she fought dirty. 

 

"By the looks of you I think you two had better get down to business soon or you're gonna go into heat. You'll be humping the first convenient leg you encounter if you don't."

 

Daryl's stomach dropped.

 

_Oh_.

 

"I ain't gonna go into heat."

 

He was and he knew it. 

 

No wonder his fucking head hurt. 

 

He was such a dumbass.

 

"Well don't come crying to me when things don't work out between you and Hershel's prosthetic."

 

Daryl's expression was one of pure horror and Michonne laughed so hard so was afraid she'd pulled something. 

 

"Oh  _Christ_. I _ain't_ gonna go into heat. Rick ain't no werewolf."  

 

Daryl was certainly no expert on werewolf reproduction and sexuality but he still knew better than that. 

 

It had been years since he fucked anyone, human or werewolf. And that's all any of those had ever been—just fucks. He'd never knotted any of them. Never wanted to do anything that _intimate_ with anyone. Not before Rick anyway.

 

Now it was all he could think about and it was building a fever under his skin.

 

Rick wanted it too.

 

Daryl had never been in a heat, a rut before either. Like knotting, it was something that generally only happened once werewolves paired up. Helped strengthen their bond and bind them together as mates for life. 

 

Werewolves that mated with humans didn't usually go into heat. Not unless their bond with their human partner was especially close. Those rare cases were when people usually started tossing around words like _soul mate_ and _meant to be_ and _fate_.

 

Pretty sappy shit.

 

But here he was, feeling wrecked as all hell and longing for the heat of his mate against him like a dying man in a desert craving water.

 

"It doesn't matter. You've got to fuck or be fucked or you are going into a heat, plain and simple. And you can try and fool the others but I can already _smell_ it on you, dear."

 

He was so fucked.

 

Daryl slumped, defeated. 

 

" _Fuck_."

 

"Mmhmm, that's my prescription for what ails ya. You'll be right as rain as soon as you do." 

 

She was too damn chipper today for his liking. 

 

"Voice of experience, are ya?"

 

"Hell no. I've had plenty of lovers but never a mate. I've got a lot more sense than you do." She winked and Daryl rolled his eyes and growled in annoyance. 

 

"Alright, alright, truce, yeah? To reward you for being such a good sport I'm gonna offer to take over your shift on watch this afternoon so you can go get your freak on." She smiled, finishing her stew in a few fast bites. 

 

Daryl raised an eyebrow, watching her with uncertainty. "Why?"

 

She shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a romantic at heart. And you sure as hell aren't going to be any good for standing guard in a few hours if you are this bad already." 

 

Daryl gnawed on a fingernail and nodded. He caught her gaze again and held it for a moment. "Thank you." 

 

Michonne was the first to look away this time, smiling fondly as she looked across the field to where Rick and Carl were working in the garden. 

 

"You take care of him or I'll kick your ass, got it?" 

 

"Yes ma'am." He slid his half-finished bowl of stew towards her and chuckled at the appreciative sound she made before dipping her spoon into it. 

 

She may have been a werewolf but she ate more like her horse.

 

Daryl stood and swung his leg over the bench, scooping up his crossbow as he turned to head back inside C-Block. Michonne whistled behind him.

 

"Oh! Hey, come back here! I almost forgot. Got ya a present." She groped around inside the saddle bag before pulling out a brown paper sack and tossing it to him. 

 

"What's this?" He prodded the bag suspiciously.

 

"Think of it as a 'congrats on finally fucking your crush' present. And since I've been in close quarters with you before trust me when I say that Rick will be grateful for it too." She grinned and watched him with bright eyes as he very cautiously opened the bag. 

 

"Oh hah-fuckin'-hah." 

 

Michonne cackled as he held up the flea collar. She laughed even harder when he threw it at her head until she realized it had ricochetted and landed in her stew. "Aw _damn_!"

 

"Yeah, serves ya right you damn loon. You think you're really funny don't ya?" 

 

"Oh I _know_ I'm funny. It's not my fault you have lousy taste. And hygiene. Now go on and get ready for your mate. I'll keep an eye on your pups and the pack for the night." 

 

Daryl nodded and thanked her again. He settled his crossbow on his shoulder and headed back inside. He had a few things to round up before Rick came back in for the night.

 

And a mattress to drag down to the generator room.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut and knotting in the next chapter! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and for your kind words! You keep me inspired! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werewolf sexy times with knotting and a tiny dash of biting. Enjoy!

 

Daryl hadn't been able to stop himself at just the mattress. 

 

After hauling the unwieldy thing down to the generator room he decided more was required to make the space into a suitable den. 

 

He balled up all of the blankets and pillows from the bunks in his cell and carried them down to the generator room to join the mattress. But when that still wasn't enough to suit his nesting instinct he slipped into one of their supply rooms to collect whatever he could find there. 

 

He grabbed a duffle bag from a selection of spare packs and bags hanging on the wall and stuffed a thick down comforter and some sad, thin pillows into it. He also took a battery-operated lantern and some candles.

 

And that's when the food caught his eye. 

 

They had been using this large room to store most of their surplus food, gear, and toiletries. Nearly every time they left the prison on a run they came back loaded down with boxes and crates and sacks full of whatever useful goods they could collect. Most of the stuff not immediately put to use ended up here.

 

High metal shelves filled the room and were lined with canned goods, glass mason jars of home-canned food, sacks and bags of dried goods, and quite a few stacks of random junk food that had been picked up along the way. The majority of the junk food was out of date but most of the shit had enough preservatives in it to last long past the end of the world.

 

Daryl grabbed another bag and snatched up a couple boxes of crackers, dried fruit, some jerky, a few bottles of water, and several chocolate bars. About half of the chocolate bars actually.

 

And the last package of Oreos.

 

Most werewolves suffered from a horrible sweet tooth.

 

Michonne was going to _gut_ him. 

 

But he really didn't care right now. This was for Rick. For his mate. The wolf wanted to prove to him was a good partner he would be, providing him with food and water and comfortable shelter for their bonding rut. 

 

Speaking of fucking, that reminded him…

 

He sidled up next to the shelves containing toiletries and extra first aid supplies. His nose wrinkled at the sharp chemical smells of many of the products as he looked through the collection of odds and ends. 

 

Antiseptic creams, bottles of hydrogen peroxide, isopropyl alcohol, and iodine, gauze, latex gloves, braces and bandages, and expired over-the-counter pain and cold meds (Hershel and Dr. S. wisely kept the good stuff locked away) lined one wide shelf. Another shelf had too-fragrant soaps, shampoos, deodorants, razors, and toothpaste. Another still had some extra baby stuff, feminine hygiene products, condoms—the wolf was having _none_ of that but Daryl pocketed a couple of the foil packets just in case Rick wanted to use them—and then Daryl finally found what he was looking for in their mess of a makeshift drugstore. 

 

Carol cleared her throat behind him just as his hand landed on the biggest bottle of lube on the shelf.

 

_Shit_. 

 

He hadn't heard her, hadn't even smelled her familiar scent of warm cotton, lavender, and concealed steel as she snuck up behind him. His senses were a complete wreck. 

 

Hell, _he_ was a complete wreck.

 

He might have been embarrassed if hadn't been too damn horny to care about much else in the world right then. At least he did have enough sense about him to make sure the duffel bag was covering the stiffy he'd been sporting since he started working on the den.

 

Damn heat was leaving him _debauched_. 

 

Carol's eyes were bright with mischief as she smiled at him. 

 

"So, big plans for tonight?"

 

Daryl growled miserably and pressed his forehead against the cool metal edge of the shelf with a dull thud. Carol's grin faded to a concerned but fond look.

 

"Michonne told me. You two take all the time you need, yeah? Everyone's settled and happy and we have plenty of food and supplies for a long while. I'll take care of Judith and keep an eye on Carl." 

 

He felt like he only heard half of what she was saying, his pulse pounding his ears and the fever of the heat in his blood making him damn near dim-witted. But he nodded and thanked her—at least he was _pretty_ sure that he thanked her and didn't accidentally agree to her request for explicit details next time she saw him—and finished stuffing the duffel bag with whatever useful goods caught his eye after Carol left. 

 

After dropping off the bags in the generator room and piling up the blankets, pillows, and towels he'd collected onto the mattress Daryl went to wait for Rick in his cell. 

 

An hour slowly crept passed. Shadows cast by the setting sun through the small windows in C-Block grew longer and longer until they bled into the approaching darkness of night.

 

And in that time Daryl became a hormonal disaster. 

 

He'd paced Rick's cell, sat on the bunk for a while, tried reading a couple of the books on the nightstand, and then the wolf and the heat took over. 

 

Daryl rubbed his wrists and the palms of his hands over nearly every square inch of the cell and Rick's belongings to smear his scent on it all. The air in the room grew thick and heavy with the scent of his musk. 

 

His skin was too tight, his blood was too hot, and his head was slowly being taken over by instinct and need. 

 

He sat on Rick's bunk, had his belt undone, his pants unzipped, and a hand around his swollen dick before he even realized what he was doing. 

 

A too-loud moan snapped Daryl back into a moment of clarity, stopping him from rolling his hips up to meet the next pump of his fist. 

 

The moan hadn't come from him.

 

A wall of lust crashed into him along with the scent of his mate right-fucking- _there_. 

 

Rick stood in the doorway of the now dark cell, too-loose jeans hanging low on his hips, chest bare, and a towel slung around his neck to catch the droplets of water still rolling down the ends of his shower-wet hair.

 

Daryl's fist tightened around his dick, already on edge, already needing to come _now_ with his mate's scent filling his lungs.

 

A moan of his own slipped through Daryl's clenched teeth as Rick crossed the room to drop down to his knees on the floor in front of him, between his splayed thighs. 

 

Rick's warm fingers tangled with his own around his flushed cock, pushing them away so he could stroke the slowly filling knot and Daryl shuddered.

 

"You're in heat, yeah? So you'll be coming quite a few times tonight, won't you?"

 

His fist gripped Daryl's knot in a hold that should have been painfully tight but instead felt like fucking perfection. He couldn't help the high whine it pulled from his throat.

 

"Yeah. Shit, yeah. Rick, _please_." He panted, trying to fuck up into Rick's grip but a heavy forearm shoved his hips back down against the bunk. So he grabbed Rick's bare shoulders in desperation instead.

 

"Let's take the edge off then." Rick purred against his belly before swallowing his cock down. 

 

Daryl jolted like the current from a live wire touched him. He fucking wailed and scraped his nails across Rick's shoulders as he came as soon as the heat of that gorgeous mouth sank down over him.

 

Rick made a surprised sound but swallowed every drop of him down, looking up at Daryl from under dark lashes with bright, devious eyes. 

 

After mouthing sweetly at him for a few moments longer Rick released his dick and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. An eyebrow arched when he noticed Daryl's still swollen dick and knot showed no sign of softening. 

 

Daryl groaned up at the bunk above him. "How did you know I was in heat? Michonne goin' around tellin' everyone?"

 

Rick chuckled and stroked his tongue up the thick vein curling around Daryl's cock. "Nope."

 

"Then how-" he shuddered at the sucking kiss placed on his knot.

 

"It's pretty obvious, darlin'. But werewolf heat stamina was always popular locker room conversation. And I've jerked off to more than my fair share of porn too. _Lusty Lunar Lycanthropes_ was a personal favorite." He grinned at Daryl's groan of laughter and lapped at the slick head of his cock. 

 

Daryl growled loudly at his mate's teasing touch and did his best not to buck his hips up for more.

 

Rick had been right. The orgasm was a brief relief to the burning fire of the heat lust that was consuming him. But he needed more. _Now_.

 

Rising to his feet and pulling Rick up alongside him, Daryl pulled him in for a deep kiss that flooded his taste buds with the rich flavor of his mate and his own come still lingering on Rick's probing tongue. 

 

When they broke apart for a breath Daryl nuzzled at Rick's jaw. "Come on. Got somethin' to show ya." 

 

Daryl dragged his mate through the dark hallways that led down to the generator room, the going made glacially slow because he couldn't keep his mouth or hands off of Rick. And Rick seemed to be in a similar state, clawing and yanking at Daryl's clothes as they went.

 

Once they finally made it to the room Rick stopped shoving at Daryl's half-unbuttoned and half-unzipped clothes long enough to look around the room. The candles Daryl lit earlier had burned down low but still cast a warm glow across the cold concrete walls and floors. And tucked away in one corner was a full mattress, thicker than most of the smaller twin mattresses in the cells. Blankets and pillows covered it, some spilling off onto the floor and the shelves near by had all sorts of food stuffs Daryl had pilfered from the supply room.

 

Daryl had claimed this space for them. Even his less sensitive nose could tell that Daryl's scent was heavy on the air down here.

 

"You made us a pillow fort." 

 

Daryl snorted, nose crinkling as he rocked his hips against Rick's and rubbed his fingers across the gunshot scar over Rick's ribs.  "It's a _den_." 

 

"Looks more like a pillow fort. Or a love nest." He teased, grinning at Daryl's flustered growl.

 

Rick chuckled and bit at Daryl's neck, making him moan like a desperate creature. 

 

"It's perfect."

 

The rest of their clothing was soon scattered across the room, leaving a trail from the door to the makeshift bed. It was far from the first time that they had seen each other naked but this was _miles_ away from freezing baths in creeks and changing filthy clothes in cramped quarters while on the run. 

 

No this was so much better because now they could reach out and _touch_. 

 

They damn near tackled each other into the mattress.

 

After long minutes of sloppy kisses and bold fingers Rick grabbed one of Daryl's hands and guided it down between his legs, past his straining cock and heavy sac and _back_.

 

"I started without you in the shower." He breathed into Daryl's ear, teeth scraping the delicate cartilage and grinning at the sound Daryl made when his calloused fingers stroked over Rick's stretched hole. 

 

Both men groaned as Daryl pressed two fingers in easily.

 

"Fuck." 

 

Rick sprawled back out across the mattress, pale eyes dark and hooded while he watched Daryl trembling between his legs. Daryl grabbed the bottle of lube out of his pack. He then ducked down to suck bruises into Rick's inner thighs as he pulled his fingers out to pour more lube over them before pushing three back into Rick's hole, curling them towards his prostate and making Rick suck in a sharp breath.

 

" _Fuck_ , you're good at that. C'mon, more."

 

Daryl was happy to oblige, loving the feel of the tight heat of his mate clenching around his fingers. Especially when he leaned forward to pull Rick's cock into his mouth.

 

He worked Rick right up to the edge, sucking hard and fucking him open wide with slick fingers until Rick shuddered and pressed the heel of his foot against Daryl's shoulder.

 

"Shit! Stop or I'll be done for."

 

Daryl nodded, pulling off Rick's cock with a loud sucking _pop_ and easing his fingers out of the other man. He sat back on his knees and reached for his pants on the floor beside them, digging around in the pockets until he pulled out a foil-wrapped condom. He held it up for Rick to see. 

 

"I got these. In case you wanted me to—"

 

"Don't need 'em. I'm clean and I ain't planning to ever fuck anyone else after this. You sure as hell better not either." He teased, leaned up to scrape his teeth against Daryl's throat.

 

The attention paid to the sensitive flesh of his neck made Daryl's dick twitch.

 

Rick noticed and hummed approvingly. 

 

Rick grabbed up the bottle of slick, poured some into his hand and reached down to stroke Daryl's leaking cock. Once satisfied and grinning at Daryl's breathless moans, he turned to brace himself on his hands and knees. 

 

The sight of Rick in that primal position was almost enough to make Daryl come then and there, untouched. 

 

The wolf rumbled with hunger as he draped himself over his mate. One hand wrapped tightly around Rick's chest while the other reached down to guide his cock between his cheeks.

 

The heat was threatening to engulf him again, mind fuzzy with the lust overtaking his senses and Daryl paused to take a deep breath and ground himself, pressing his forehead against Rick's spine.

 

"Tell me if I need to stop. _Please_ tell me. I ain't hurting you, Rick. Christ I'd never be able to do that-" he babbled against Rick's bare shoulder, licking and dragging sharp teeth along the hot, sweaty skin.

 

Rick moaned and arched his spine to press his ass snug against Daryl's groin. 

 

"You ain't gonna hurt me. Come on, darlin'. Fuck me now. I'm yours."

 

Daryl nodded. He took another steady breath of his mate's scent and began easing into him, unable to look away from the sight of Rick's flushed flesh opening up so readily and taking him in. 

 

_My mate_.

 

Rick's head hung down between his shoulders as Daryl filled him up.

 

Together they set an easy, toe-curling pace. Daryl watched the twitch and roll of Rick's hips closely and took his cues where to aim for his prostate.

 

He knew he was on the right track when his mate cried out and slapped a hand back to grope at Daryl's ass, pulling him closer and making his knot press right up against him, stretching Rick wide open.

 

His mate was loud and shameless and demanding as he writhed on his cock and Daryl had never been more turned on in his life. 

 

"Which one of us is in heat again?" He purred against Rick's ear.

 

Rick growled and clenched down on Daryl's length, surprising a groan out of him. 

 

"Come on, get it in me. Want to feel you, all of you." A high moan cut his words off as Daryl reached down and slipped a finger into Rick's tight heat alongside his cock.

 

"Oh _fuck!_ " Rick shuddered, trying to relax against the stretch. Daryl's hips kept moving but much slower now as he prepared his mate for the knot.

 

The muscles in Rick's back and flanks twitched and trembled and Daryl pressed close to roll his tongue against the knobs of Rick's vertebrae. He crooned nonsense against flushed skin and used his free hand to pour more lube over his cock and other hand. Slowly, infinitely slowly and carefully he easy a second finger into Rick's already stretched tight hole.

 

His mate tossed his head and exhaled with curse.

 

He kept the rocking of his hips slow and easy as he continued to stretch Rick open. The other man babbled and growled into the pillow below him and once Daryl had three fingers fucking in alongside his cock Rick reached back to claw his fingers into Daryl's thigh. 

 

"That's enough. Now, now, come on."

 

"You sure?" He rasped softly, teasing his little finger in as well and grinning at Rick's desperate groan.

 

"Yeah and I'll kick your ass if you don't get it in me now."

 

"Be nice." Daryl growled, pressing his teeth hard against Rick's shoulder and shuddering at just how badly he wanted to break the skin.

 

As he began easing the swollen flesh of his heavy knot into his mate Rick's arms gave out and his torso dropped forward to rest on his forearms. The curve of his back was gorgeous and Daryl followed him down, his chest pressed tight against Rick's spine. He sucked and bit kisses into Rick's flushed skin as he rocked into him, slick fingers still pumping Rick's leaking cock as he pushed further and further into him.

 

And then, heat consumed him. _All_ of him. And it was the best fucking thing he'd ever felt in his life.

 

If the way Rick's cock jumped in his hand and the high groan that slipped past his mate's panting lips were anything to go on then Rick thought it felt pretty good too.

 

"Alright?" He gasped against Rick's temple, trying his best to hold still to let the other man adjust. 

 

A violent shiver shook Rick's body but he nodded. "Hah, yeah, oh _goddamn_ that's a _lot_. Just give me a second."

 

Daryl forced himself to remain motionless except for the nipping bites he pressed into Rick's neck and the hand that kept stroking and teasing Rick's cock.

 

Enough time passed that Daryl was sure he was going to explode if he didn't move soon but then Rick tightened around him and began rocking back against him, cursing and praising the near overwhelming sensations that were leaving him a wrecked mess.

 

Daryl growled and thrust his hips harder, unable to move very far now that they were locked together but he kept grinding forward to keep pressure on Ricks' prostate.

 

Beneath him Rick was a creature of gorgeous, wild abandon. He shoved back against Daryl, meeting each grind and roll of his hips and clenching tight as a vice around the knot tying them together.

 

Daryl was on the edge, stalled right at the precipice and as he licked and sucked and nipped desperately at Rick's neck with a fierce longing need Rick tilted his head back to bare his throat in a primal offering. 

 

_Yours_.

 

_Mine._  

 

Daryl couldn't hold back any longer.

 

Sharp teeth sank into the tender meat where neck and shoulder met and Daryl came with ragged howl muffled by his mate's blood and flesh. Over the roar of his own pulse pounding in his ears he heard Rick cry out loudly, shouting his name and he felt the wet heat of his mate's release on his fingers.

 

They held frozen in place for long moments, each man's muscles twitching and trembling as they panted for breath. Daryl licked his mate's blood from his lips and rolled his tongue gently over the bite mark on Rick's skin. He felt a twinge of guilt but then Rick hummed in contentment and smiled over his shoulder at Daryl as he reached back to touch the damaged skin with his fingertips.

 

"I like the idea of wearing your mark."

 

Daryl was _so_ fucking in love. 

 

Finally releasing the death grip he had on Rick's hip, Daryl slid his hand up his mate's chest to hold him close as he eased them down onto the mattress and pillows to lay on their sides. Rick choked on a moan as the new position shifted the thick knot deeper inside him, keeping Daryl's cock pressed snug up against his prostate.

 

" _Shit_." He hissed, one hand flying down to clench against Daryl's thigh.

 

"Okay?" Daryl breathed into Rick's ear, nuzzling gently at his mate's skull.

 

Rick nodded, breathing through another wave of pleasure intense enough to pass as pain as he squirmed on the heavy cock stretching him until the pressure on his prostate let up just enough to return to this side of comfortable post-coital pleasure.

 

"Considering I'm pretty sure that I just came so hard that I blacked out for a minute yeah, I think I'm more than okay."

 

Daryl grinned and lifted his hand up to his lips, cleaning Rick's come off his fingers with his tongue. Rick watched him from the corner of his eye and made a soft sound at the sight. 

 

Daryl was drunk on endorphins and pheromones and the heavy heat of his mate in his arms. He felt like a giddy school girl and was trying very hard to not make a damn fool of himself. 

 

But he couldn't help covering every bit of his mate that was within reach with lazy kisses and licks. One arm was folded under Rick's head to support his neck and his other hand stroked up and down Rick's belly and ribs, teasing his nipples with blunt fingernails.

 

"You _smell_ like me." He purred roughly into Rick's throat as he nuzzled the bite he'd marked his mate with.

 

Rick chuckled at the amorous werewolf curled around him and rumbling like an overgrown cat.

 

"I like your face." Daryl added and pressed a biting kiss against Rick's cheek, then another to his bearded jaw. "I like your beard too."

 

Rick laughed tiredly and let himself be ravaged. "Glad I let it grow out. I can tell I'm gonna need it in self preservation against beard burn from a certain horny werewolf."

 

Daryl snorted and leaned down to rub his own facial scruff against the sensitive skin where Rick's neck met his shoulder. 

 

"Can't grow a beard here."

 

Rick growled and reached back to grab Daryl by his jaw, craning his neck back to steal a kiss.

 

Once they broke apart for a breath Rick shifted his hips experimentally, feeling out the thick cock that had him stretched so full. His own dick was beginning to soften but Daryl's was still as hard as it had been half an hour ago. He could feel Daryl's strong pulse pounding in the heat of him. It was a strange but not unpleasant sensation. He arched his spine and rolled his hips back, clenching down to savor the fullness and Daryl's reaction was _electric_.

 

A high moan was startled out of him and he sank his teeth back into Rick's neck as a second orgasm rocked him and had him rolling his hips in desperate little motions against his mate. 

 

When he caught his breath again he rasped out against Rick's ear. "The _fuck_ was that about? _Christ_."

 

"You'll probably have a couple more before the knot goes down. I'm gonna milk you dry," he teased, grinding back against him again. 

 

Daryl groaned and buried his face against Rick's sweaty shoulder as he grabbed his waist to hold him still. "How the hell do you know more about this than me?"

 

Rick chuckled and craned his neck back to steal a kiss at an awkward angle. "I told you already. I'm a dirty old man that's into werewolves."

 

A smirked was pressed against Rick's skin as Daryl nibbled along his deltoid. 

 

"This werewolf is _very_ in to you." He added with a wiggle of his hips and snickered as Rick moaned and reached back to slap him on the ass.

 

"Good to know I'm not the only deviant in this relationship."

 

Daryl sucked a bruising kiss into the nape of Rick's neck and reached out to snag the heavy down comforter from the floor to spread it out over top them.

 

From what very little he knew about the whole thing Daryl figured it would be close to half an hour before the knot went down enough for them to separate. That's why his nesting instinct had been so all-consuming earlier; in ages past when the world was full of predators looking for easy meals, mates in heat needed safe places to stay while tied together for so long. 

 

An instinct for over-protectiveness that came in pretty damn handy now that the world had reverted to more primitive ways again. Survival of the fittest.

 

He reached down to gently stroke his fingers over Rick's flesh stretched tight around him. Both men groaned at the sensation. 

 

_Mine._

 

The wolf rumbled loudly with pride at his own virility and that of his new mate.

 

Daryl had proven himself to his mate. Had knotted him, bred him, _claimed him_. They would rule the pack from now on as bonded alphas, a powerful and dangerous force to be reckoned with. Survival of the fittest for fucking sure.

 

Daryl purred in smug contentment and tightened his arms around his pliant mate, nuzzling and mouthing at the angry red mark on his neck. Rick shuddered and reached out to wrap his hand around the wrist Daryl had curled over his chest. 

 

"Just so you know, if I can ever get my dick up again I'm gonna return the favor. Fuck you till you can't remember anything but my name and how badly you need to come. I ain't got a knot but I know can still make you scream, _Mate_." He grinned darkly at Daryl over his shoulder and drew Daryl's hand up to his mouth to suck and lick at his sticky fingers. Rick's other hand reached back to stroke over the sensitive skin of Daryl's neck with the blunt tips of his fingernails.

 

Daryl groaned loudly as another aftershock rocked him, pulling yet another albeit slightly weaker orgasm out of him and pumping more of his seed into Rick. 

 

"Fuck, yes. I'm _yours._ "

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was worth the wait! I love hearing from you guys so let me know if you enjoyed it. :) 
> 
> More to come one of these days!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, sorry for the stupid long delay. Here's some more dumb fluffy porn to make up for it, maybe?

Once the knot's swelling lessened enough Daryl eased away with a parting nip to his mate's shoulder. Rick groaned at the loss and the sensation of Daryl's come sliding out of him and sprawled bonelessly out across the blankets and pillows piled on the mattress. 

 

Daryl had intended to get up to get some water but the sight of the other man so content and completely fucked out kept him enthralled and he pressed close against Rick's side. His mate's side.

 

_My mate._

 

He nosed gently against the angry bite mark on Rick's neck and rumbled happily in approval. Rick chuckled softly and rolled over onto his back, smirking up at Daryl. 

 

"A little proud of yourself, aren't ya?"

 

"Mmm, a bit."

 

Daryl grinned against his mate's skin and snorted when Rick swatted playfully at his head. He mouthed and sucked at the wound until one of the cuts reopened and a sluggish trickle of blood wept from it that he was fast to catch with his tongue. The heady taste of his mate in such a primal form made him moan and suck harder at the wound. 

 

Rick grumbled under him and clawed his blunt nails in a line of fire up Daryl's flank.

 

"That smarts, you possessive bastard."

 

"Sorry," he said breathlessly, sounding anything but apologetic as he stroked his tongue over the damaged flesh. It would leave a scar, a mark that anyone, human and werewolf alike would know for what it was: a sign that Rick was his. 

 

_Mine_.

 

"I'm gonna make us match as soon as I can move again. Give ya a big old love bite, right here." Rick bared his teeth and snapped his jaws shut with a playful click of teeth as he stroked a thumb along Daryl's hypersensitive neck. Daryl whined at the teasing stimulation and leaned in for a needy kiss. 

 

The thought of Rick burying his teeth in his neck, marking him like Daryl had marked Rick reawakened the heat hormones still pulsing through his blood stream and made Daryl's still half-hard knot begin to swell again. He rolled his hips, grinding his cock down against Rick's thigh and deepened the kiss with a desperate moan against his warm lips.

 

Rick made a soft sound of surprise beneath him but didn't question this new turn of events. Instead he stroked his tongue against Daryl's and drug his fingernails against the too hot skin of Daryl's throat and grinned at the whimper Daryl responded with. 

 

Daryl sucked in a breath to try and steady his nerves but the action backfired on him when he was assaulted by the heady, spicy heat of his mate's scent. 

 

It was utterly devastating. 

 

"Rick. Need you." He would have been embarrassed by the desperation in his voice but the fog of lust was returning and the heat instinct was taking over again. 

 

That same instinct led him to pull away and kneel on all fours beside his mate, back curved and ass in the air as he trembled with desire and chanted Rick's name softly. 

 

Rick sucked in a sharp breath and Daryl felt the mattress shift as he moved closer, drawing his fingertips along Daryl's side in a caress he likely meant to sooth with but it only made Daryl groan like he was in pain. Daryl dropped his head to hang heavily between his shoulders. 

 

"Please, Rick. Need you in me _now_."

 

"Shh, easy. Insatiable thing, aren't ya?" Rick draped himself over Daryl's back and nuzzled his nose against his hair.

 

Daryl's nerves were on fire and he ached to be claimed and filled by his mate's cock. But when he rolled his hips back to feel Rick's heat against him a spark of worry formed in his mind. 

 

He reached back to grope at Rick's still soft prick and the other man moaned against Daryl's shoulder.

 

"You damn near fucked my brains out just a few minutes ago. Give an old man a second, will ya?" He nibbled teasing kisses along Daryl's nape and a sob of pleasure left his lips at the sensation. He could feel the grin Rick pressed into his skin before warm lips and long strokes of a hot tongue began to trail down his feverish skin.

 

"S'okay, I got ya. I'll take care of you. Fuck, you're gorgeous like this Daryl." 

 

Broad, calloused hands spread Daryl open and then that hot tongue was pushing right into him.

 

Daryl's head swam with pleasure as Rick took his sweet time working him open and slicking him with saliva and fingers coated in lube. It was good, Christ it felt amazing but it was nowhere near enough. 

 

But by the time Daryl was rocking back to meet each thrust of Rick's hand, damn close to coming again Rick pulled away with a sucking bite and a scrape of his beard against Daryl's ass cheek. Daryl exhaled a sharp breath at the loss of contact and craned his neck back to watch him. 

 

Rick's cock was thick and hard and _perfect_ and as he slicked more lubricant over the flushed length Daryl spread his legs wider and pushed back against him insistently. 

 

" _Hurry up_ ," he snarled through gritted teeth.

 

He ached. Everything was too hot and too much and not nearly enough all at once and he felt too empty. The heat had taken him over, turning him into a mindless creature of need and he needed Rick _right fucking now_. 

 

Rick slapped him on the ass and urged him over onto his back. "Like this. You are a beautiful fucking mess and I want to watch you while I wreck you. Gonna make you _mine_." 

 

Daryl groaned and spread his legs immediately, wrapping them around Rick's hips and trying to urge him to move, to make his claim but Rick just soothed his hands down Daryl's shuddering ribs and trembling muscles. Daryl growled in annoyance and arched his spine, tipping his head back to bare his throat and grinding his cock up against Rick's belly, all in an instinctual attempt to entice his new mate into breeding him. 

 

"Get your dick in me already, you goddamn tease." 

 

"Hey, easy now. I'm going to fuck you but I'm not gonna hurt you before we even get started." He reached down to squeeze Daryl's throbbing knot and grinned at the wail it drew from the werewolf's throat. 

 

"I promise I'm gonna take _very_ good care of ya," Rick crooned as he guided the head of his cock against Daryl's hole.

 

Rick was certainly a man of his word. 

 

He fucked Daryl with thrusts that started out slow and toe-curling in their intensity but that quickly became vicious, pounding Daryl down into the mattress and sending bright sparks of pleasure and pain shooting through him.

 

Distantly, Daryl registered that he was being loud, _too_ loud with praises and curses and primal sounds of wanton need that reverberated off the concrete walls around them but if anything his vocal enthusiasm only seemed to encourage Rick.

 

And when Rick's blunt teeth sank deep into his neck in a mirror image of the bite Daryl had left on his own flesh, Daryl came with a howl that echoed through the tombs. 

 

Rick surged against him with a feral growl of his own as his orgasm overtook him. He fucked deep into Daryl with a final harsh thrust and Daryl groaned appreciatively, muscles tightening around Rick's pulsing cock as his body instinctively tried to lock in a knot that wasn't there. 

 

Daryl groaned loudly as the heat of his mate's release filled him. A trickle of blood from the bite mark rolled down his shoulder and Rick's fingertips would leave bright marks of color on Daryl's hip and thigh and the wolf in him was delighted at being so thoroughly marked and fucked and _claimed_ by his mate. 

 

They laid tangled together for long moments, catching their breath and shuddering as aftershocks continued to make Daryl's muscles tighten around Rick's slowly softening cock. 

 

Daryl finally felt whole, utterly sated and safe with his new mate heavy and warm on top of him. They were bonded for life and the wolf was burning bright with fierce pride and possessiveness. 

 

" _Mine_ ," Daryl growled softly and hummed in contentment when he heard Rick whisper back ' _yours_ ' into his hair. 

 

When they finally parted Daryl pulled himself away from the bed just long enough to pad across the room to the shelf he had stacked most of the goods he'd raided from the supply room earlier. He returned to the bed with a couple of bottles of water and the package of probably stale Oreos.

 

Rick laughed tiredly when he saw the junk food and propped himself up on his elbows. "Michonne is gonna kill you when she finds out you took those." 

 

Daryl smirked and cracked one of the water bottles open, offering it to Rick while he tore into the plastic packaging of the cookies. "I'm gonna blame Glenn and you ain't gonna say a word about it." 

 

After a sip of water and a luxurious, back-popping stretch—which Daryl _thoroughly_ enjoyed watching—Rick grinned and nodded at the Oreos. 

 

"Give me one of those and I'll keep your secrets."

 

Daryl already had four in his mouth but he handed the package to Rick before flopping down onto the blankets beside him. Rick watched him for a long moment with a curious smile before accepting the Oreos. 

 

"A werewolf willingly sharing chocolate. Wow, I guess you really do like me, huh?"

 

Daryl grumbled and swatted at Rick's hip. 

 

"Yeah, yeah, I like you a lot, dumbass. Mates get special privileges and I'm in a _really_ good mood right now." At least that's what he tried to say around the sugary mouthful. Rick got the gist of it and just shook his head, bit into his own cookie, and pulled the other man close. 

 

A peaceful quiet descended on them. The edge had been taken off the worst of the heat hormones in his system—though he still had plans to ravage Rick at least a few more times during the next few hours—and he was feeling well-fucked and immensely content, surrounded by the comforting scent of his mate. And a little tired. Apparently Rick was as well because he yawned loudly and pressed closer to Daryl's heat.

 

"I'm sure you could go all night but my fragile little human body is ready for a nap." 

 

"Hmm, well your fragile little human body did a damn fine job of fucking me tired too."

 

The chilly, damp air was beginning to get to Rick even with the furnace of Daryl's body heat beside him so he shifted and slid down under the blankets. He winced when he moved, realizing just how filthy he was with a multitude of bodily fluids smeared all over him. 

 

"I really, really need a shower."

 

The ferocity of the growl that erupted from Daryl's throat surprised both of them. But Rick just smirked and pulled his possessive werewolf under the blankets with him, tucking his head up under Daryl's chin. Daryl instinctively wrapped his arms around Rick, squashing the packaging of the Oreos between them and Rick laughed.

 

"Calm down and eat your post-coital cookies, I ain't going anywhere just yet. And I wouldn't dream of going without you so you can smear your musk all over me again as soon as we're clean."

 

Daryl hummed his approval of this plan and offered Rick another Oreo with a mischievous crooked smile. 

 

"You'd better keep your strength up. I've got plans for you after our siesta and shower." 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got the next couple of chapters planned out and mostly written already so hopefully there won't be nearly as long of a delay between them. Gonna have a tiny dash of angsty plot but if you've read my stuff you know it won't be long before we're back to that good old silly fluffy smut again. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a big dumb pile of werewolf fluff. I'm gonna break out the angst in the next chapter and even a tiny bit of plot (haha) so fair warning!

 

It was late the next day before Daryl finally let Rick leave their makeshift den for longer than just a piss break. 

 

The heat made him a creature of primal lust and pure instinct for hours. Each orgasm brought some relief, a chance to rest and ingest some fluids and the rest of the junk food he'd collected—and make sure that Rick did the same—but then it would only begin to build all over again, a bone-deep ache that left him a mindless wreck, squirming and rutting against his mate for release. 

 

Obviously Rick and his human stamina couldn't keep up with a werewolf in heat's libido but his mate kept his word and took care of him. He would suck or jerk him off, a hand wrapped tight around the heavy knot at the base of his aching cock as Daryl came with shouts and breathless sobs. He'd coax Daryl into wrapping his own hand around his dick too, whispering filthy things into his ears and scraping his teeth against the vivid bite mark on Daryl's neck while Daryl fucked up into his own fist. 

 

And when Rick's human stamina did catch up he would make Daryl howl. 

 

A few hours had passed since their last coupling. Daryl had knotted Rick again and after that last release the heat hormones burnt out enough that his dick finally lay soft against his thigh and he no longer felt that all-consuming need to fuck or be fucked through the mattress. 

 

He was exhausted and sore as hell and ready to sleep for a few weeks. But he had claimed his mate and been claimed in turn and he was sure that he would be riding that high for a long time to come.

 

With a lazy, _very_ self-satisfied grin, he sprawled bonelessly out over Rick, who grunted and laughed as he kicked away the covers in an attempt to not be smothered by the werewolf's body heat and they both dozed for a while. 

 

But Rick was moving under him now, trying to slide out from under his weight without waking Daryl. _Too late._

 

Daryl growled softly and nipped at his bite mark on Rick's neck, starling a hiss from between Rick's teeth.

 

"Stop squirmin' around. M'tired 'n my everything hurts."

 

Rick scoffed and swatted at Daryl's head. " _Your_ everything hurts?

 

"Yeah, I bet your everything hurts too. So go back to sleep." With a low rumble, the wolf nuzzled at his mate's temple in apology and mouthed gently at his ear and then down the side of his neck. He shifted so he could reach lower and nibbled down along Rick's clavicle and right up next to the raised skin around him mating mark. Rick shuddered and leaned into the touch with a content sigh as Daryl traced the mark with the tip of his tongue. 

 

The rich, earthy taste of his mate on his tongue sent a bright bloom of pleasure coiling in Daryl's belly. If he thought there was a snowball's chance in hell that he could get his dick up he would pin his mate down and fuck him once more but he was done in and fucked out. At least for the time being. He smirked and tucked his head under Rick's jaw and settled down against the long expanse of his mate's warm, bare skin to doze some more. 

 

Daryl had just drifted off, nose pressed close against his mark on Rick's throat when the other man murmured against his hair. 

 

"C'mon, let's go get some real food to eat. I'm burnt out on chocolate and junk food."

 

Daryl groaned overdramatically. 

 

"You're always tryin' to make me get up just when I get good and comfy."

 

"That's because you've turned into an overgrown tomcat that just wants to cuddle," Rick teased with a grin.

 

He grumbled at the cat comparison but he couldn't help the loud purr that vibrated deep in his chest when Rick stroked a few too long strands of dark hair back behind Daryl's ear. 

 

After a long moment spent just savoring the petting while surrounded by the warmth and scent of his mate, Daryl rubbed his forehead against Rick's clavicle and sighed.

 

"Guess we outta get up and check in on everyone, huh?"

 

"Yup. Got a pack to run you know, oh alpha mate of mine." Rick pinched Daryl's naked hip and bared his teeth in a decidedly wolfish grin as he flipped Daryl and pinned him against the mattress to kiss him.

 

Even after they cleaned up in the shower—where Rick had laughed and shoved Daryl away when he dropped to his knees, nuzzling and mouthing at Rick's utterly spent cock with a playful growl of _mine_ —there was no hiding what they had been up to for the last twenty four hours or so. Rick had the thoroughly satisfied expression and ill-concealed limp to his cowboy swagger of someone that'd had his brains damn near fucked out. Not to mention the angry red bite mark on his neck was bright and obvious against his pale skin, sticking out past the open collar of his shirt. Not that he was even really trying very hard to cover it up with his top three buttons undone, Daryl noticed with a burst of pleasure that made his chest swell. 

 

His mate was proud of their bond. 

 

Daryl couldn't help but scoot closer to Rick as they ate dinner outside under the pavilion. 

 

Word apparently spread quickly because while many inquisitive gazes and soft murmurs of curiosity were directed their way no one seemed shocked by just how close the two of the were as they ate. 

 

Wolf instinct and possessiveness drove Daryl to nuzzle against Rick's shoulder. He wanted the pack to know for certain that Rick was his now.

 

_My mate._

 

A crooked smile curved up one corner of Rick's lips at the affection and he set his fork down, shifted a sleeping Judith to the crook of his right arm, and wrapped his left around Daryl's back. His fingers came to rest at the nape of Daryl's neck, teasing the long hair there and making Daryl's eyes close as he rumbled in contentment. 

 

"You guys are so damn cute that I think I'm gonna barf." 

 

Michonne flashed her teeth in a teasing but good-natured grin as she sat down across from them and started to pick at her own dinner, watching them with narrowed eyes. Daryl groaned and buried his face against Rick's neck.

 

"Shut it."

 

"Uh-uh, you gotta be nice to me. I'm the one that kept everyone outta your business for a whole day so you two could get down to _business_. So yeah, you owe me, Dixon." Something on the breeze caught her attention and she tilted her nose up as she scented the air. 

 

Daryl growled in irritation and Michonne answered with low snarl of her own before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened in surprise and both Rick and Daryl looked at her curiously as she cleared her throat.

 

"Uh, sorry about that. Just, you know, you smell _different_." The flare of her nostrils that followed was as involuntary as the snarl. 

 

To Michonne, an unbonded alpha, the sharp scent of the pheromones Daryl was still pumping out burnt her sensitive nose. It hadn't bothered her before but now that the two of them had bonded Daryl's scent had changed. And to her it was like running into a brick wall with a big bold keep out sign hanging on it. It set her on edge but she was good at saving face. 

 

So as long as she kept her distance for a few days—and stayed _upwind_ of the other wolf—they would get along just fine. 

 

 

 

 

That first night instinct drove Daryl to relocate their den—" _Love nest_ ," Rick teased—to Rick's cell. He would much rather have drug his mate up to his own cell but Rick was settled in on the main floor with Little Asskicker's crib at the foot of his bunk and Carl in the next cell over. 

 

Daryl had always been protective of pups, especially Rick's but now that they were mated Rick's offspring were _his_ pups too. He would do anything to keep them safe.

 

Carl was surprisingly okay with it all. Except for the fact that Daryl's possessiveness and overprotective instinct now extended to envelop him as well as his sister and father. 

 

Which meant he couldn't get away with shit anymore.

 

Carl was a good kid but he was hard-headed and stubborn as a mule and liked to be a little too independent. He'd make a damn fine alpha someday but for now, Daryl kept a close eye on him. And curtailed any ideas Carl had about going on supply runs with him anytime soon. 

 

The young pup brightened when Daryl offered to take him hunting some time instead. 

 

 

 

 

 

For the first week after their bonding Daryl was still a bit of a hormonal wreck. 

 

Well, maybe more than just a _bit_. 

 

He bared his teeth and snapped at most anyone that got too close to his mate and shied away from any touch but Rick's. His skin was tight and oversensitive and a friendly clap on the shoulder or a hand on his arm to get his attention made his stomach flip with such a sudden and powerful sense of _wrong_ that it nearly made him ill. 

 

Unless it was Rick that touched him. 

 

That he couldn't get enough of to satisfy the wolf. 

 

_My mate_.

 

He was practically glued to Rick's side those first few days. Rick didn't seem to mind though. On the contrary, even his dull human nose could pick up on the pheromones Daryl's system was still pumping out. Pheromones that were produced to encourage closeness and attraction between newly mated pairs and that warned others to keep their distance or face the consequences.

 

Humans and werewolves weren't that far apart on the evolutionary family tree and humans kept enough remnants of a shared, primal ancestor in their genetic makeup to still be capable of picking up on a few werewolf scent signals. 

 

And apparently Rick was _very_ in-tune with werewolf scent signals because he couldn't keep his hands off Daryl.

 

Daryl had yet to put away the mattress and a few other supplies he had collected in their old den down in the boiler room. So whenever he thought they wouldn't be missed for an hour or two or even just a few minutes if he was feeling particularly desperate and voracious for his mate—or vice versa—he would drag Rick down there and have his way with him. 

 

Rick was very okay with this arrangement. And when Rick fucked him from behind with Daryl on his hands and knees in an entirely wolflike position and Rick scented his neck before sinking his teeth into his flesh to reopen the bite scar Daryl came so hard he damn near cried.

 

 

 

 

 

After a few days, Michonne became short-tempered around Daryl. His new scent set her on edge and that long gone feral gleam was returning to her eyes.

 

She had tried to give him space and keep her distance but she was just as much an alpha as he was and this was her pack and home too. And between his hormone overload and all the huffing and puffing that newly mated alpha wolves did he got on her _last. damn. nerve._  

 

It really didn't help Daryl's cause when she discovered the fate of her Oreos. 

 

After the two of them shifted and got into a nasty brawl out in the field one night she packed up and headed out the next morning without a word. 

 

Daryl felt like shit for it. 

 

But she came back late the next evening and brought along a couple of bottles of whiskey and another package of half crushed Oreos—she had a nose like a damn bloodhound for the things—that she shared with Daryl up in one of the guard towers for a truce. She fell behind in downing her share of the alcohol and when Daryl got just drunk enough to be a little loose-lipped she pressed and prodded him for all the dirty details about his and Rick's bonding. And he was a dumbass that fell for it and let slip his surprise at how fucking amazing the multiple orgasms brought on by knotting were.

 

He regretted it immediately because Michonne was going to tease him about that until he keeled over from embarrassment. 

 

According to her it was payback for eating her chocolate and being, in her own words, a hormonal asshole. Now they were square. 

 

Daryl decided then that he never wanted to _really_ piss her off. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Things slowly began to settle back down into whatever counted for normalcy these days. Spring was soon into full swing—which brought on another, although less intense heat for Daryl whose mate was _enthusiastically_ attentive—and then drifted on into the hot and humid weather of late Georgia summertime.

 

Daryl and Rick's pack grew. They started collecting strays on supply runs, testing them with questions Rick came up with and then bringing them home if their answers were satisfactory. Strays that became new pack mates as they proved themselves. 

 

Daryl and Rick's pack grew in size and strength. As did their bond.

 

They learned each others scars and secrets until they knew them by heart. The were both still hard-headed alphas and they would scrap and bicker if their tempers got the better of them but they were an unbreakable unit and a force to be reckoned with to any that opposed them or dared threaten their pack.  

 

But after the hell of the last year and a half, his mate decided that he needed a break. As far as Daryl and anyone else was concerned Rick had more than earned it and Daryl was glad to take care of him and their pack for as long as he needed.

 

So with the garden growing fast and strong and summer speeding along, Rick started going on fewer runs, staying close to his pups and depending on Daryl to hunt for them and bring back whatever goods they needed.  

 

Rick trusted him to provide for him. For their pups and their pack. To keep them safe.

 

Daryl was responsible for these people. For the first time in his life he had a purpose, a life of his own. The memory of Merle's death was an ache in his chest that he felt every day but through that loss he had gained something he never had before and never expected to have in his life.

 

A real pack. And a home. 

 

Daryl was distracted from his thoughts—and breakfast—by Patrick as he stood beside Daryl and thanked him for the deer he'd shot the day before. Daryl barely heard him though.

 

The near-grown pup's scent was off. He always smelled like teenage hormones and nevous sweat, especially around Daryl and Michonne—one of those oddball kids that grew up hero-worshipping werewolves for whatever reason—but this was different. This was some sort of sickly sweet heat along with his usual nervous energy. It burned Daryl's nose and he sneezed as soon as he let go of the boy's offered hand. 

 

"Gezundheit, Mr. Dixon." 

 

Daryl knew the kid was going to be sick. Maybe a cold or stomach bug or something, he wasn't sure what but he would have to remember to make sure Hershel or Dr. S. checked in on him later. He clapped his hand against Patrick's shoulder and told him to take it easy and pretended not to notice the pup's blinding smile as he turned back to Carol for her morning report. 

 

She was grinning at him.

 

"You still going on that run today?"

 

Daryl nodded and grumbled around a rather large mouthful of oatmeal. "Yup. M'takin' Glenn, Sasha, Tyreese, and maybe a handful of others. Sasha 'n I found this place last time we went for a run. Looks like a pretty good spot."

 

"Want me to tag along?"

 

Daryl considered it for a moment but shook his head. 

 

"You mind keepin' an eye on the pups today? Patrick especially. He don't look so good." 

 

Disappointment briefly marred her expressive eyes before they shone again with amusement.

 

"I'll take care of the kids, you old softie. You worry about them too much but it's cute seeing a big bad wolf all broody and overprotective." She grinned at the flush that reddened the tips of his ears.

 

He growled around another bite of food. "I ain't… _broody_." 

 

"Yeah, yeah, I know, tough guy. But you always get so flustered when I tease you about it so I can't resist." Carol laughed and shoved her shoulder against him. 

 

Daryl rolled his eyes and shoved back playfully before scarfing down the rest of his food and going to find Rick. 

 

It was a gorgeous day. It had been hotter than hell all week but now the air was cool and there was an easy breeze full of scents of warm clover and fresh brown earth. Even the constant stink of decay that usually hung heavy in the air these days was dulled and most of the group of walkers that regularly moaned and clawed at the fences were off after easier prey this morning. Only a handful of stragglers remained and Tyreese and Karen took them out without incident before heading back for their breakfast.

 

A supply run was on the agenda for later that day. But for now, it was still early and Daryl couldn't resist the sight of his little pack down in the garden.

 

Rick was up to his wrists in dirt, streaks of it smeared on his tanned arms and forehead while a light sweat glistened on his temple. An easy smile curved his bearded lips back as he worked. 

 

It was a _very_ good look on him. 

 

Rick had enlisted Carl to help him hoe and pull weeds while Judith played with her own feet and rolled around on a thick quilt nearby, shaded from the sun by an enormous umbrella tilted on its side. 

 

Daryl stripped behind the pavilion in the exercise yard—glaring over his shoulder at Carol as she whistled at him; she laughed when he flipped her off—and shifted. It had been days since he last stretched his wolf legs or felt the the sun on his fur and the prospect of lazing around with his pack for a few minutes was too inviting to pass up.

 

His gait was slow and easy as he sauntered down the winding driveway to the garden, gravel crunching under thick paw pads and long black claws. 

 

He stopped beside Rick first, tongue lolling out in a canine grin as he rubbed his shoulder and flank against Rick's back, nearly knocking him over into the green bean bushes he was tending in the process.

 

"Knock it off, you mongrel." Rick laughed, throwing a dirt clod at the wolf's head.

 

Carl laughed when the lump of earth hit its mark and sprayed dirt across Daryl's fur. The wolf went after him next, not satisfied until Carl was curled up in the grass and wheezing from laughing too hard. His hat was laying on the ground a few feet away and his hair was sticking up comically with werewolf slobber.

 

"Ugh, Daryl. You are so _gross_."

 

Daryl huffed in mock annoyance and left the father and son to check on his little girl pup.

 

Judith grinned a gummy smile when she saw the wolf and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees to crawl towards him. A shiny thread of drool rolled off her chin as she chattered and babbled happily at him. 

 

The wolf pressed his damp nose against the baby's round cheek, making her shriek and giggle.

 

After sniffing her over to reaffirm that instinctual and overprotective paternal bond Carol had teased him about, Daryl flopped down on his belly in the long grass beside Judith. His thick tail thumped happily against the ground as his little girl crawled next to him and reached out to tangle her chubby fingers in the thick ruff of fur along his neck and shoulders. Once she was up and leaning against him to support herself, she stretched up to touch his soft, triangular ears. 

 

Daryl had to lower his head so she could reach them.

 

Judith was fascinated by his ears and loved playing with them. Her curious fingers gently traced and folded and tugged on them but never yanked or pulled. When the wolf started flicking them back and forth Judith erupted into a giggle fit and tried to catch them. 

 

An enormous yawn interrupted her fun and after a few minutes of rubbing her eyes and fighting off sleep, his little girl sank down to curl up against his chest. She closed her eyes with a sigh and buried her face against his fur. 

 

Daryl bent one foreleg to curl it protectively around her.

 

_My pup._  

 

The wolf's own eyes began to grow heavy and though he tried to shake off the relaxation that was seeping into his bones, knowing he needed to get ready for the supply run in a few hours, the comforting scents and quiet sounds of his pack all around him set him at ease. 

 

_My pack._

 

He gave the air a final, thorough sniff for any danger before finally giving in and drifting off with the sun warming his fur, Judith's tiny heartbeat thudding steadily against his chest, and the soft murmurs of his mate and pup working in the garden behind him.

 

_My family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next bit is already written so I'll post it in a couple of days. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skipping forward right into an bit of an angst-fest here. I promise I'll make things better soon but I couldn't resist playing around with this storyline in this verse.

 

 

 

 

Beth was gone.

 

She was a delicate but fierce little thing that against all odds had carved out a place for herself in this world. She had watched her own father beheaded by the fucking _Governor_ and lost her sister both in one fell move but she still kept moving forward.

 

Their pack was gone.

 

All Daryl wanted to do was lay down and die.

 

But Beth was just so damn sure that the others were fine and that they would find them soon. She was all bright sunshine and optimism while all Daryl could think about was the sickening ache of loss deep in his chest that was threatening to split him apart with each breath.

 

The overpowering scent of smoke and blood and gunpowder from the prison massacre still filled his nostrils days later. He couldn't get his senses righted because of it, had damn near led them right into the middle of a herd of walkers because he hadn't caught their scent first, and worst of all, he hadn't been able to pick up a trail that led to anything but more death and dead ends.

 

Beth had held him when he finally broke down and sobbed for his mate and pups, holding him up and giving him something to keep fighting for.

 

And now she was gone.

 

Daryl lost track of how long he ran after her and the car that took her. Many miles and many hours down the same two-lane highway had led him to nothing but a long cold trail at a crossroad. And heartbreak. He sobbed as he dropped to his knees in the middle of the road, soaked with sweat and trembling with exhaustion.

 

Beth was gone.

 

Everyone was _fucking_   _gone_.

 

Hershel, Glenn, Maggie, Tyreese, Sasha, Michonne.

 

Little Asskicker. Carl.

 

_Rick_.

 

They were all gone. Because of him.

 

That's the way it always was, wasn't it? People had been dying around him since long before the world ended and he had never been able to do a damn thing about it. He hadn't been able to save his own brother and he couldn't even help sniff out a lost little girl pup hidden in a barn just a few hundred yards away from camp because he was a dumbass that nearly died after falling into a ravine and skewering his guts on his own arrow.

 

If he couldn't keep them safe why had he ever thought he would be able to protect his mate and pups.

 

He hadn't been able to save the pack from the sickness that ravaged their ranks. Hadn't been able to stop Carol from killing in cold blood. Hadn't been able to keep their fences up. And he had given up looking for the Governor like the stupid fool he was only to have the bastard come back and destroy everything.

 

He had failed them all. And now here he was, just like Beth had said that night in the moonshiner's cabin. The last man standing.

 

Well. S _itting_.

 

In a bright, agonizing moment of desperation, he considered sticking the barrel of his revolver between his teeth. It had one bullet left in the cylinder that might as well have his name on it but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Cowardice, ignorant bravery, or just thousands of years of deeply ingrained survival instinct hardwired into his brain, who the fuck knew but he knew he wouldn't be able to pull that trigger.

 

It was a damn good thing his mate wasn't here to see what a fucking wreck he was. Rick would want nothing to do with his sorry ass, he mused with a soft, pained laugh.

 

And that's when he smelled them.

 

Daryl stayed crumpled on the asphalt, too exhausted and broken to care about moving even with danger creeping up on him. But he listened carefully and scented the air as they slunk out of the woods behind him. Their sharp scents of musk and sweat and _wolf_ filled his nostrils and made his hackles rise.

 

A pack of six bristling werewolves surrounded him, all males and all feral wild things from the smell of them.

 

Their alpha, a silver-haired male in a ridiculous western shirt with a cruel smirk stood before Daryl, his nostrils flaring as he sucked in a lungful of his scent and studied him. His eyes were small and sharp and filled with a cunning intelligence that made it obvious why he was this group's alpha. He kept his expression neutral as he seemed to consider Daryl for a long while before finally baring his teeth in a sly, crooked grin.

 

"Looks like we found ourselves a kindred spirit, boys."

 

Daryl snarled, springing to his feet and aiming his crossbow at the alpha at point blank range. The man didn't flinch.

 

"That's a fine weapon, son. I've been looking for one of those myself."

 

One of the beta males behind him barked out a laugh and made a comment about claiming Daryl's vest. The others answered him with low, dangerous chuckles as they began closing in. Daryl ignored them and kept his eyes and bow focused on the alpha who only leaned in closer as if he had a secret to tell.

 

"You smell like an alpha that's lost his bitch."

 

Daryl swung his fist with a burst of lightning fast energy and knocked the alpha flat on his ass. The others lunged for Daryl but froze as the man on the ground called them off with a raspy growl. The alpha rose to his feet again, wiping at the blood that was trickling from his split lip. He stared hard at Daryl who had his crossbow aimed again.

 

"You ain't the first to lose a mate in this world and you sure as hell won't be the last so it's time to man the fuck up."

 

" _Fuck you_." Daryl bared his teeth in a snarl but the alpha only smirked at getting a rise out of him.

 

"The thing is, now you've got two choices. You can lie down and die like a dog in a ditch, forsaking every scrap of courage or strength they ever saw in you or you can keep fighting like you damn well know they'd want you to."

 

He stepped closer, only a few short inches from the bolt aimed at his skull, and held Daryl's gaze in an alpha's challenge.

 

"I can certainly make use of a wolf like you if you'd care to join us. I know and you know that, alpha or not, you ain't gonna last long out here on your own. Lone wolves never do."

 

One of the betas, the one that had called a claim on Daryl's vest, kept scenting the air anxiously and looking back and forth between the two alphas before finally moving a little closer to the silver-haired man.

 

"But Joe, are you sure? What about—"

 

His alpha growled in warning and stared the beta down until he nodded nervously and slunk back.

 

Daryl's world was gone. His mate and pack were lost to him and he was alone. The prospect of a pack however unlike his own lost one called to him, pulling at his very core like a siren's song. But he wasn't stupid. He knew the likes of werewolves like these and he had no doubt that they were dangerous.

 

The alpha was right though. It was even more dangerous to be on his own.

 

These brutes had sparked a fire in him. Beth hadn't given up and Daryl decided then that wasn't about to either. He could have some cover in this pack while he continued searching for his own, have someone watch his back until he found the others. It wasn't the greatest of plans but with four rifles and a bow trained on him he didn't have many options. Sometimes you just had to take whatever shitty hand life dealt you and make it work.

 

The alpha bared his teeth in a grin that was meant to be friendly but Daryl could see the savage wolf just under the surface promising a bloody death if he didn't play nice.

 

"Name's Joe."

 

Daryl drew in a long, steadying breath. After a moment, he blew it out and lowered his crossbow.

 

"Daryl."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come soon! Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay! I came down with a lousy case of writer's block but it seems to have lifted! Woohoo! Hopefully there are still a few of you still around to read this, haha.

 

Quiet murmurs and the first streaks of warm sunlight creeping across his skin slowly stirred Daryl into consciousness. 

 

The cell block was quiet but for the gentle sounds that had woken him. The scents around him were familiar and comforting and Daryl blinked the sleep from his eyes to look for Rick. 

 

His mate was shaking up a bottle of formula for Judith. The little girl was propped on his hip and Rick swayed back and forth and crooned gently to her while the soft, early dawn light streamed in through the barred windows across the hallway in front of their cell. 

 

Daryl's muscles were warm and syrupy and he stretched luxuriously before tucking an arm back to prop his head up so he could watch his mate and pup. 

 

The raised skin of his mark on Rick's neck peaked out from the collar of his shirt and Daryl smiled in lazy contentment. 

 

_Mine_.

 

Rick realized he was being watched and turned to face Daryl with a sleepy-eyed smile. 

 

"Hi."

 

"Hi yourself," Daryl drawled and sucked in a deep breath, savoring the scent of home all around him. Rick chuckled softly.

 

"What do you smell?"

 

Daryl breathed in the dry air again and exhaled it with quiet sigh.

 

"Baby powder. Dust. Sweat. Gun oil and leather. You."

 

"And what do I smell like?"

 

Daryl closed his eyes with a content smile.

 

"Me." 

 

Rick's raspy chuckle was the only reply and soon all was quiet.

 

But then it was the wrong sort of quiet. Not the quiet stillness of peace and home. No this was the quiet of loss and ruin.

 

When he opened his eyes the cell was empty and dark.  

 

"Rick!"

 

He ran from the cell, ran right into Carol. Her lean fingers were wrapped tight around the hilt of her knife and her hands and arms were red with fresh dripping blood.

 

She smelled like fire and death. Smoke could throw off a werewolf's sense of smell but it wasn't enough to cover her sins now. 

 

Tears of blood poured from her eyes and down to stain the front of her shirt. When Daryl blinked she was gone. 

 

Their den smelled like death. Sickness crept through every corridor, taking every life it encountered and leaving a trail of blood and slowly reanimating corpses in its wake.

 

And the Governor took what the sickness didn't.

 

The prison walls shook with cannon-fire and smoke choked the breath out of him and made his eyes water. Cordite and copper filled the air and now all Daryl could do was run. There was no clear enemy to fight, only scents and shouts of pain that ruined his senses and left him howling in agony.

 

Rick echoed his howl with a scream as a bullet tore through his thigh. 

 

Carl cried out for his father, for Daryl and Judith's shrill wail pierced his ears over all the other sounds of destruction around him.

 

He startled awake with a ragged gasp when a booted toe kicked at his shoulder. 

 

"Rise and shine, sweetheart," Joe rasped with a smirk.

 

Daryl had grown up around a few others of his kind. He brother and parents were werewolves but that was the extent of any familial ties he had. But Merle had done a damn fine job of sniffing out every speck of trailer trash, skinwalker scum that lived in Georgia and keeping company with them over the years. 

 

It was a hard life to live. Daryl damn near had his throat ripped out more times than he could keep track of for offenses as minor as stealing cigarettes. That's how he grew up, all blood and violence and feral ferocity in the lowest levels of lycanthrope society.

 

This pack was just like them. Only worse with the freedom the end of the world allowed them.  

 

This pack was what most werewolves in times long past must have been like. They were primal and feral and _brutal_.

 

They killed one of their own on Daryl's second night with them, the beta that had eyes for Daryl's vest back when they had him surrounded on the road. At Joe's word, they ripped him apart inside an abandoned warehouse like it was nothing and left the remaining pieces of him scattered across the filthy floor. 

 

All over a lie he had told with the intention of bringing about the same fate for Daryl. 

 

As they were leaving, the head—severed from the rest of the body and laying in a pool of blood—began to move. Daryl paused in packing up his meager possessions and watched the others walk past its snapping jaws without giving it a second look. 

 

Daryl slung his bag over his shoulder and followed them out of the warehouse. He didn't look back.

 

He told himself that he was still safer with them than he would be on his own.

 

For now at least.

 

It was late that same afternoon when they made their way through an overgrown hayfield towards an old set of railroad tracks that cut through the johnson grass and broomsage. Joe offered him a swig of whiskey from his flask as he and Daryl brought up the rear of the pack. 

 

Daryl accepted the flask and took a long swallow before handing it back. The whiskey burned his throat and settled warm but uneasy in his belly. 

 

"So where are ya'll headed anyway?"

 

Joe took a contemplative drag on his cigarette. Their boots crunched through gravel and thudded over creosote-soaked lumber as they walked along the tracks. 

 

"We're on something of a mission."

 

He watched Daryl from the corner of his eye. Daryl caught his gaze and held it for a moment before Joe proceeded.  

 

"You noticed those signs for a place up the line called Terminus?"

 

Daryl nodded. He and Beth had gotten off the tracks as fast as they could, seeking refuge in the countryside but he had seen the signs. 

 

"We're tracking a small group that's heading that direction. We were holed up in a house back in one of the suburbs a little east of here and one of them got the jump on us and killed our packmate Lou. Bastard strangled him with his bare hands and left Lou to turn on us."

 

Joe's lip curled in a hint of the rage that bubbled just under the surface. A soft growl vibrated in his chest before he continued.

 

"Nasty business so we're looking for a little payback." 

 

Dan and Tony were just ahead of them and they both growled in appreciation of the hunt.  

 

Joe nodded at the beta in front of them. "Tony there saw him and got a good whiff of him. We ain't far behind them now and should catch up with 'em around sundown." 

 

Daryl heard too much of Merle, of the Governor, of his _old fucking man_ in Joe's voice and he knew then that he couldn't stay with this pack any longer. 

 

The old silver alpha kept talking but his words washed over Daryl like the hum of cicadas on a hot summer day and he only half-listened to them as he drifted in to his own thoughts. This wasn't his pack and he damn sure wasn't about to start fighting for them. Daryl knew all to well the need for retribution and revenge. He also knew the carnage that came with it and he wanted no part of Joe's day of reckoning. There might be safety in numbers but it wouldn't be the first time he'd had to make it on his own. 

 

And that was starting to sound a hell of a lot safer than staying with this pack of bloodthirsty killers.

 

He would just have to find the right time to slip away and it had to be soon. Joe was down a body by his own doing so he would need all the muscle he could get for any attack. Daryl doubted that they would willingly let him go, especially if the people they were after was capable of killing a werewolf barehanded. Werewolves weren't immortal but it wasn't easy to put one down so this group likely wouldn't go down without a fight.

 

As they followed the train tracks the breeze shifted and Daryl's curiosity got the better of him. He tilted his head up to try to catch a whiff of Joe's quarry.

 

The barest hint of a scent was all he could pick up but it was enough to stop him dead in his tracks. 

 

_Michonne. Carl._

 

**_Rick_**.

 

Their scents on the wind was like a kick to his gut. He couldn't breathe and Joe had stopped talking and started staring at him as everything suddenly all fell into place.

 

Joe was out to kill his pack. His pup. _His mate_.

 

For three days Daryl had been blindly following death as it crept closer and closer to his family. He was such a fucking fool.

 

He had to protect them from these feral monsters. His mind raced but he knew wouldn't have time to run and find Rick and the others before Joe's pack caught up with him. They would be hot on his heels like hellfire and that would only make things worse. And he couldn't take them all on his own.

 

He was running out of time and he didn't have a damn clue as to what to do. 

 

But Joe was a sly old wolf and he caught on fast. Realization dawned in his bright eyes and his teeth were slowly bared in a feral grin.

 

"Well damn, you got a hell of a keen nose on you, don't ya son? I was hoping we'd have a little more time before you picked up their scent but you had to go and be a damn bloodhound. Dan you wanna do the honors there?" 

 

Daryl swung his fist, busting Joe's lip open for the second time just before Dan slammed the butt of his AK down and Daryl's skull erupted in a brilliant explosion of agony. He dropped down hard on to his knees but he went down swinging, knocking the gun from Dan's fumbling hands and pulling him down in an ungainly heap next to Daryl. The smaller beta face-planted on the metal railing of the train track with a howl and spray of blood from his nose. 

 

Tony had Daryl by the throat before he could cause any more damage and the overpowering sense of _wrongwrongwrong_ he felt from that contact with Rick's scar made Daryl's guts churn. The sharp tang of Joe's cigarette breath in his face didn't help.

 

"That mate of yours killed one of our pack. As soon as I smelled him on you I knew you'd help us get the satisfaction of some even sweeter revenge."

 

Fury and terror made Daryl fight against the hands restraining him but his skull felt like it was about to split wide open and Tony's brutal grip cut off his airway. 

 

He wheezed past the choke hold. " _You_ killed one of your own last night!"  

 

Sharp teeth were bared in a slow, dark smile. 

 

"That was pack politics. Whole 'nother animal there."

 

A second brutal hit from the butt of another rifle and everything went dark. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapters (for now anyway) are mostly done so hopefully I'll get the rest of it up soon! Thank you for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, here be bloody reunions!
> 
> Gore and canon-typical violence ahead so brace yourselves. Not much further to go, one or maybe two more chapters and I'll call this fic a wrap. Thank you all so much for reading and for your patience between updates! :)

 

Daryl woke up to a series of hard slaps to his face and the sharp, coppery tang of his own blood in his mouth.

 

And to the scent of his pack _right. fucking. there_. 

 

"Got some folks you might wanna see here, Daryl."

 

The beta male had his hand on the back of Daryl's neck, fingers digging like knives into Rick's claim mark on his throat as he walked him out from the woods and onto a little two-lane highway where an old heap was rusting away in the road. In front of the wreck, gathered around the still smoldering ruins of a campfire, was a sight that filled Daryl with a short-lived joy that was quickly swallowed up by blood chilling horror.

 

Carl was cowering inside the car while one of Joe's pack, Dan, leered in at him. Closer to the burned out fire, Rick was crouched low, body held tense and frozen in place with the barrel of Joe's gun aimed at his temple. When he saw Daryl his eyes widened in disbelief. 

 

His pup. His mate. 

 

Pinned down by Joe's bloodthirsty pack.

 

Daryl trembled with anger. He wanted to rip these bastards apart.

 

Two wolves stood behind them on the side of the road. From her scent, Daryl knew one of them was Michonne. Her normally sleek coat was tangled with mud and blood and standing over her was one of Joe's pack, Tony from the smell of him. He was holding Michonne still with his teeth clamped around the nape of her neck.

 

Michonne's bright amber eyes were aflame with fury.

 

"Got us a damn good-lookin' she-wolf here, don't we, fellas? This bitch thought she'd get the drop on us. Sneaky, _sneaky_." Joe stroked his rough fingers over the thick ruff of fur growing along her neck, pulling away before he met Tony's muzzle buried in it.

 

He ducked down to suck in a breath at Michonne's nape. She bristled, a low growl rumbling out of her chest and Daryl felt his blood grow hot with rage. 

 

Joe kept his gun aimed at Rick's head and after he finished scenting Michonne he flicked her ear hard with a gruff bark of laughter before turning his attention back to Rick.

 

Daryl met his mate's gaze and the fear he saw in his eyes damn near broke his heart.

 

"So you must be Daryl's mate. And over there with Dan must be your cub. What a sweet little reunion we've got here! The whole pack! Shame you're gonna have to watch them all die." 

 

"Joe c'mon. These are good people. You want blood, I get that, but let them go and take it from me." He tried to keep his voice steady but seeing Rick again, knowing his mate and pack was still alive but in such danger had him terrified and desperate to protect them.

 

The beta's grip on him tightened but Daryl still tilted his head to the side to bare his throat and held his arms out in supplication. 

 

"Take it from me, okay?"

 

Joe seemed to consider this but then his gaze lit on the claim mark on Daryl's neck and his expression darkened.

 

"You say these are good people. Do good people go around killing others, leaving them to turn and come after their pack? I don't think so."

 

Dread filled his gut.

 

"So that makes you a liar, Daryl. And you know very well that I don't care much for liars." 

 

Rick swore and shifted his weight, drawing Joe's attention back and trying to reason with him with words Daryl barely heard over the pounding of his own pulse.

 

Joe dug the barrel of his revolver into Rick's temple and leaned down so they were face to face and Daryl bit the inside of his cheek bloody holding himself back. Rick was doing his best to keep his breathing calm and he held Joe's gaze as the man bared his teeth at him in a predator's grin.

 

"You my friend, are gonna die here tonight. But first we're gonna have the bitch. And then we're gonna have your pup. Hell we might even have a go at your mate once the boys have gentled him a little more. Go on 'n get started there, fellas! And you're gonna get a front row seat to the show, right up 'til the end when I put a bullet in you." 

 

Daryl's stomach dropped.

 

"Eye for an eye, pack for pack."

 

The beta behind him and one that had been hanging back to hold the perimeter, member's of Joe's pack whose names' Daryl hadn't bothered to learn, turned on him then at Joe's word. They bared their teeth in feral, snarling grins and quickly stripped their clothing off and shifted to their wolf forms before closing in for the kill. 

 

They were going to rip him apart and he would let them. At least with their attention on him that evened the odds for Rick, Carl, and Michonne. Might give them the chance they needed to fight the others off and escape. 

 

His pulse was a frantic thing in his ears and his chest ached as he looked on at his pack. Rick was trembling violently with rage, but his eyes were wide with fear as he tried to plead with Joe. 

 

Rick was so fucking close but he couldn't even touch him. 

 

At least he'd gotten to see him one last time.  

 

He locked eyes with Rick just before the first slash of claws raked lines of fire across his thigh and a powerful mass of fur and muscle plowed into him, slamming him down to the ground flat on his back and knocking the wind out of him.

 

Rick pleas edged on hysterical, his fury spilling into his voice and carrying it loud over the slobbering snarls and growls of the two beta wolves as they tore into Daryl.  

 

Then Carl's cries of panic cut through the air and Daryl could smell the filthy beta pig's lust as he descended on the teenager. The male pinned him down and buried his greasy face in Carl's hair as the pup—Daryl's pup—tried to scramble away from his groping hands. 

 

Both Rick and Michonne tried to rush to Carl's aid but Joe kicked Rick back and Tony sank his fangs deeper into Michonne's neck and jerked her back with a shake of his head that made her yelp.

 

Daryl knew then that he wouldn't be able to save his pack. Not like this.

 

And that was when he started to fight back. 

 

He swung his fist, hitting the jaw hinge of one of the beta wolves as it lunged for him. It dislocated with a sharp crack and a yelp of pain from the wolf who slashed at Daryl's stomach with a massive paw in retaliation. He swore and kicked the wolf back before shoving his vest and shredded shirt off and kicking his boots away as he began to shift. 

 

The thunderclap of a gunshot tore through the night as he dropped down to all fours. 

 

Joe shouted and swore, hands clutching his ears as he tried to clear them from the painful ringing of his revolver firing so close. Then he and Rick were swinging punches and Michonne was trying to scrabble free of Tony's fangs. 

 

One of the betas teeth sank into his throat and Daryl choked on howl at the agonizing wrongwrongwrong of that contact. He tore himself free with a fiery hot stab of pain and slashed his claws down the beta's back in retaliation just before the second wolf clamped down on his foreleg and yanked it back with a sickening _snap_. 

 

Joe had gained the upper hand over Rick, had him wrapped up tight and immobilized in a cruel parody of a bear hug with his gun held out of Rick's reach. He growled in Rick's face with a vicious, bloody-toothed grin.

 

"We're gonna have your pack, sport. What do you think you're gonna do about that?"

 

Quick as a viper strike, Rick ripped his throat out with his teeth. 

 

A geyser of blood, black as sin in the fading starlight, erupted from Joe's ruined throat and a scream that died as a wet gurgle bubbled up out of him. Panic shown in his eyes as he tried to clamp his hands around the gaping wound to no avail. Rick spat out a mouthful of flesh and kicked Joe's legs out from under him, letting him hit the ground with a heavy thud. 

 

Rick slid his Colt from the holster on his hip, took aim as Joe held his hands up to try and plead with him, and fired a round that obliterated the side of the silver alpha's skull. 

 

For the briefest of instants, Joe's pack froze in shock. And that briefest of instants was all that Daryl's pack needed.

 

Michonne was tore herself away from Tony's teeth and sank her own fangs into his throat. Her bone crushing jaws clamped down on his windpipe and with a swift twist she broke his neck. 

 

She was quick to lunge for one of the betas trying to pin Daryl down, knocking him back and tearing his belly open with a rake of her claws. 

 

As a last ditch effort to bring him down the remaining beta latched onto Daryl's flank with his long white fangs. Daryl howled at the pain and twisted back, seizing the other wolf's skull in his jaws and biting down with a gruesome crack of bone and splash of gore. The beta convulsed once, twice, three times before going limp. 

 

Daryl dropped his lifeless body and panted for air as he turned to watch his mate descend on Dan. 

 

Rick was a vision of death. His face and beard were coated in arterial spray and his eyes were dangerously dark with fury and hellfire retribution. The attempted rapist held Carl in front of him with a knife to his throat in a vain attempt to keep Rick at bay but between such a fearsome human alpha and the two alpha wolves baring their teeth behind him the beta quickly gave up, shoved Carl aside, and tried to run.

 

Rick didn't let him get more than a few steps beyond the car before latching on to the back of his neck and spinning him around to face him. 

 

He used Dan's own knife to cut him open from groin to just below his sternum, disemboweling him with a vicious brutality that made Daryl's vengeful animal nature howl with pride. 

 

Eventually, the grisly sounds of Rick's revenge faded. Everything was still and eerily quiet. No moans of distant walkers, no sounds of insects or other night creatures. Just their own ragged breaths and slowly calming heartbeats.

 

Michonne and Daryl both slowly shifted back. Once bare, bloody skin replaced thick fur they collected their scattered clothing with limps and quiet, pained hisses as they eased back into jeans and shirts and boots. 

 

Afterward, Daryl was half-draped over the hood of the old wrecked heap with his face buried in his good arm as he shuddered with adrenaline and relief. His ribs were on fire with each breath and he was covered in bruises and angry open bite and claw marks that were still weeping blood but they would all heal in time. 

 

Michonne wrapped her arms protectively around Carl and lifted him up from the exhausted heap he had crumbled into on the asphault. She caught Daryl's eye and nodded, a silent but reassuring _we're okay_ as she guided the pup back to the wrecked station wagon. 

 

Carl clung tightly to her but watched his father for a moment longer before ducking inside the back of the car. 

 

Long minutes had passed but Rick stood still over Dan's mutilated corpse. Steam was rising from the hot blood he was coated in as it cooled in the chill morning air. His hands trembled and finally, so, so slowly, he walked to the side of the car and dropped down to sit with his back against the cool metal. He was in shock, staring blindly off into space as a fine tremor shook his entire body. 

 

Daryl ached with the need to comfort his mate, wanting nothing more than to drag him someplace safe and curl around him to protect him from this savage world. But he had already failed to keep his mate and his pack safe once. He wasn't about to let his guard down and lose them again. 

 

He couldn't protect them from past horrors but he would do his damn best to keep them safe from any future ones. 

 

Dawn was fast approaching, the sky turning a faint blush pink to the east. The fog was just starting to lift and one of the corpses of the dead werewolves was beginning to move. 

 

Daryl limped around to each one, driving his knife down into their skulls to keep them from coming back. Christ knew the bastards had caused more than enough trouble already. And once satisfied they wouldn't be turning, Daryl drug their bodies off the road and into the ditch. 

 

Carl had been through enough. No sense in making his pup have to see the mutilated bodies of his assaulters again. It was the least Daryl could do since he hadn't been able to protect him from their depravity. 

 

Once Joe and his pack were dealt with Daryl slowly limped back to his mate. Rick hadn't moved from the side of the truck and Daryl dropped down beside him.

 

They sat side by side in silence until the sky grew bright again and finally Daryl couldn't stand it any longer.

 

"I'm sorry, Rick."

 

Rick gave no indication that he had heard him but Daryl still pressed on. 

 

"I'm sorry. I'm so _fucking_ sorry, Rick. I didn't…I didn't know what they were, not until it was too late. Christ, I'm sorry."

 

Rick turned then, eyes bright in the cool morning light and full of such raw emotion that it took Daryl's breath away. 

 

"I thought I'd lost you."

 

Fingers tacky with drying blood reached towards him and slowly, as if afraid that Daryl wasn't really there and just another hallucination that his mind conjured up to torture him, Rick curled his hand around Daryl's neck. Right over the scar he made in Daryl flesh when he claimed him.

 

An exhausted sob of relief slipped past Daryl's bruised and bloody lips and he leaned into the touch. 

 

Rick reached out for him with his other arm and pulled him close, burying his nose in Daryl's hair and Daryl wrapped his good arm around his waist when he felt his mate trembling against him. 

 

"It ain't on you. None of this. Having you back here with us, _with me_ means everything, Daryl."

 

Daryl nodded against his mate's throat.

 

"We're okay. I'm okay. It'll all be alright." Rick sounded like he was trying to convince himself and Daryl tightened his grip around Rick's waist. 

 

He'd die before he let him go again.

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [these are your arms, that is your heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1439041) by [maranhig](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maranhig/pseuds/maranhig)




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